


Continuum

by Imperial_Witch



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Action/Adventure, Destruction, End of the World, Fantasy, Magic, Novelization, Romance, Violence, magi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imperial_Witch/pseuds/Imperial_Witch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>History repeats itself. It is a force of nature, always in a perpetual cycle of peace and destruction with little change, of times where the days are lost to darkness and others where days could only get brighter. But it is often the times when the days are the brightest that the darkest hour was ever near for when peace is finally at reach, man’s grasp on it loosened and once again seduced into nothing but violence. </p><p>This tale is the darkest hour any could recall, and those who survived grew to know it as ‘The War of the Magi’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at a novelization of FFVI. The title is a work in progress, but I felt like it really matched the story and what I was trying to go.
> 
> I decided to keep it as close to the game as I could but I am also throwing in some stuff to add depth/more content. I have a total of eight chapters finished so far but will release them only after I have gone through the rest a couple more times. With that said, don't be surprised if the chapters still get revised even after publication. I have tried to refine them as much as I could so that won't be necessary, but if I'm the only author that rereads my stuff after a while and feel like something could have gone better, than I apologize. ahaha
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy my novel and if you don't...well feel free to tell me what I am doing wrong, via a review or a pm. :)
> 
> *I also have commissioned a map to be made for this fanfiction that will add to the theme I'm trying to pass off. It will come complete with a compass, a scale, and if it can fit with the theme, legends. When it is finished, I will include it as an image (if possible) or via an URL on the prologue or the first chapter.
> 
> **yes! The story "Revolution" is still ongoing! I've struggled with chapter III and IV, but it is still very much alive.

History repeats itself. It is a force of nature, always in a perpetual cycle of peace and destruction with little change—of times where the days are lost to darkness and others where days could only get brighter. But it is often the times when the days are the brightest that the darkest hour is ever near, for when peace is finally at reach, man’s grasp on it loosens and is once again seduced into nothing but violence. This tale is the darkest hour any could recall, and those who survived grew to know it as the ‘War of the Magi’.

 

The ancient War of the Magi...When its flames at last receded, only the charred husk of a world remained. Even the power of magic was lost... In the thousand years that followed, iron, gunpowder, and steam engines took the place of magic, and life slowly returned to the barren land... Yet there now stands one who would reawaken the magic of ages past, and use its dread power as a means by which to conquer all the world... Could anyone truly be foolish enough to repeat that mistake?

 


	2. Vector

**Chapter I**

_Vector  
Imperial Castle_

 

The city of Vector was nothing short of a metropolis; engineered to be _the_ spectacle of the swift advancement of man, of the glorious and undefeated Empire—of an Empire that won its dominance hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when man fought with tools those now would consider sticks and stones, at the initial desire to be the global force that stood between any and all. This period of time allowed the Imperial continent to flourish into thick prosperity and scientific development.

Skyscrapers and megatalls made up residential, office and commercial areas whereas ground level homes were phased out within the city's heart, leaving the outdated and typical housing reserved only for the farms and poorer folk in the surrounding land outside of Vector. The perimeter of Vector was riddled with thousands of cooling towers in various shapes and sizes, connected to giant industrial factories that powered the entire city, that in doing so turned the sky a perpetual orange-pink haze. The streets were no longer occupied by wagons or even by chocobos, and in its place rose air traffic. Sky Armor suits and air vessels were in the air constantly, transporting civilians, soldiers and governmental workers to and from their residential quarters to their work stations, and back again under the watchful eye of the Imperial via his Eye Drones. Security bots and police patrolled nonstop, aided by giant spotlights via rotating ground cylinders and aerial blimps. And at the center of this bustling city stood the Imperial Palace, constructed before the evolution of Vector, that had become the catalyst for the rest of the world to continue to advance beyond limit.  
  
This city, as awe inspiring as its scenery was, could not hide its rot; crime was becoming the norm, unable to be controlled. It was a festering rash that wouldn’t stop spreading across the land until it consumed everything in its path. This corruption was wrought only by the hands of officials, of governmental figureheads and their lackeys, influenced directly by the very hand of the Gestahlian Emperor, which was initiated by his own greed and jealousy.

Soon Vector was not alone in the unwanted and cancerous increase of violence and crime until it was a global problem. This made it easier for the Emperor to return his Empire to its traditional roots and the regressive imperialism rose once again. Imperial reach expanded rapidly and within several years of Gestahl’s rise to power, the entire southern continent assimilated into his Empire. Typical assimilation was often accepted due to opposing governments or kingdoms being too weak to fight back, while others that were too strong to handle conventionally were stamped out using experimental poisons and weapons, and the last few that refused the Imperials that could neither be defeated or win their wars were assimilated through ‘alliances’. Any that remained that fit in neither were too isolated and weak in resources to earn the attention of the Empire, and left alone. For now.

Despite the Imperial city being home to thousands upon thousands of people and what most called a structural representation of dignity, peace, honor and morals, the oppressive hand was ever present. To all but Imperials the Emperor was a dictator, a man whose evils and selfish lusts bore down upon them with vengeance and inhumane treatment. Young men at the ripe age of fourteen would be drafted and initiate the fitness test, and those who passed were dragged away from their families and assigned a role in the Imperial Army and those who did not pass went on to become the foundation of the Empire, the slaves and the opposed. These people who were slowly reduced in numbers within the metropolitan area until all that remained within the city walls were upper class. With the undesirables now effectively removed and reinstated elsewhere and a rapidly growing military force unmet in strength and numbers, the Gestahlian Empire sought to rekindle its military force to the ancient might it once had, so that world domination was within reach once again...

 

* * *

 

The metal floor complained against his boots, echoing his presence down the Palace halls, alerting stationary soldiers to be ready for him. With each he passed they saluted him by standing straight and raising their arm skyward with their thumb folded against their palms, their presence going unnoticed by the man they stopped to salute, perhaps due to their green rank.

The man continued down the hall. Grand full body busts of the Emperor sat at each side of the hall and continued down every ten feet, the gap between them filled with portraits of their marvelous leader in various stages of his life, some of these stages were exaggerated and some _completely_ falsified, with very few true. Eventually the busts stopped at a section where the hall split into three directions, with the east and west leading to the laboratories and holding cells, and the north toward the belly of the Palace. The man did not hesitate and continued onward into the Palace. A giant double door made of iron greeted him at the end, accompanied by four soldiers in the green rank. With a wave of his hand, the soldiers swiftly pulled the door open for him.

Inside he spotted a long table adorned with various foods with all the chairs emptied. In rows beside the table against the wall were more soldiers dressed in the brown rank, holding onto their weapons tightly, as if they expected some revolt any second. The roof was indented inward and revealed nothing but glass, gazing straight into the sky where air vessels zoomed by in chugs and puffs of dark smoke, and across the room stood yet another door. Though this door was smaller than the last two soldiers of black rank guarded it.

As the man approached them, they removed their crossed spears so that he may pass. Each soldier bowed their head before they closed the door behind him. Before the man was a grand mess hall, decorated in exotic colors and statues that boarded terrifying and beautiful, centered around one long table with only four chairs. The floor was created from steel plates, held together by bolts the size of Vectorian coins. At the right and left side of the room, taking up much of the floor, were long rectangular vents in the ground that continuously pumped out steam from the facilities below.  
  
On each side of the room was one large window of red stained glass that gave the room an ominous glow. Below the windows, sitting upon large iron shelves, were two busts. Oddly enough, neither of the busts were of Gestahl, but of his father and uncle—the later of which was the one that was the ‘victim’ of the coup d'état decades ago—Gustav and Rüdiger. The head of Rüdiger was crudely removed, either thrown away or put someplace to shame him, and had his Imperial badge chiseled out of his statue’s chest. At the end of the room was an opening that led out onto a large balcony, where the Emperor or his Generals made speeches, orders and the like.  
  
Sitting at the head of the table in a chair that resembled a king’s throne was Emperor Gestahl himself, dressed as ridiculously proper as possible of him. Oversized coats and sashes wore his elderly body into a slouch, while heeled boots brought him several unnatural inches higher than all around him, even the likes of the man to his right, Leo Cristophe. High General, Commander of the great Imperial Army—Air Force, Ground and Naval Forces included. He was a man of six foot four in his late thirties and yet as strong as a lad. His golden hair was shaved on each side of his head, leaving one long strip of hair at the center. He had solemn green eyes with a thick golden mustache that was tucked under a long nose and above full lips. His dark skin, despite the numerous battles he engaged in, remained perfectly smooth—no blemishes of any sort. He was dressed in polished golden armor accented by green and yellows, with a long flowing cloak in the same shades. Across his waist was his crystal sword and sheathed away against his lower back, his short sword.

Leo Cristophe stood perfectly still, hand on the hilt of his sword and eyes always watchful, right beside the Emperor. He was a man of very few words when it came to issues that didn’t deal with the Empire or anything concerning battle, but those few words he said were always insightful and full of appreciation of finer things.  
  
As for the man that now stood at the front of the table, he was a man that never stopped talking. He was ghastly pale and as thin as a twig, and stood no more than five foot six. His blond hair was always pulled skin tight into a pony tail, pulling back his blue eyes to stretch them to terrifying widths. His face always managed to be colored white, red and yellow with thin eyebrows that never seemed to go down. His long crooked nose matched his angular face which made his overall facial appearance all the more frightening. His jester attire consisted of various bright colors and furs with polka dot patterns, most of which dragged against the floor as he walked. He wore one white heeled boot that shone like stars on his left foot and the right foot, a boot the color of coal. Hanging from a multi-colored belt was his flail, bloody and rusty from years of exposure to the elements and possibly battles or torture. His posture was horribly poor, whether this was intentional or not no one knew.

The man wormed his way into one of the two free chairs and reclined back, dropping his feet onto the surface of the table even as the Emperor spoke to Leo concerning the incursions against their enemies, which today was apparently the ancient kingdom of Doma and the secret Returner funding city Maranda. The man retrieved an apple from the basket of fruit on the table as Emperor Gestahl listened attentively to General Cristophe about giving Doma one last chance to surrender itself peacefully to Imperial forces that they could host at Doman stationed camps. “Where’s the poisoned apples when you need them?” the man suddenly called out as he turned his apple, as red as blood, this way and that way—as if inspecting it for poison himself.

“We have no time for your useless babble Kefka,” Gestahl muttered, leaning back into his chair. “Once again you have failed me. I asked you to secure Maranda months ago against the resistance's forces and yet here we are,” he lifted his arms to gesture about the room even as Kefka bit into the apple. “discussing the insubordination of what used to be our closest ally in the west! And now there is news of South Figaro harboring the little rats that plague me! When will the things I ask of you be dealt with?”

Kefka stole a quick glance at Leo before he lifted his eyes to the great Emperor, a familiar yet never explored expression on his face. To say he was annoyed would be an understatement, and all but Leo did not care to notice the deeper meaning behind it. He swallowed the apple piece. “Miranda is being dealt with, your Majesty. I am preparing a force to retake the city. Our beloved General Chere will lead the way, of course.”

Perhaps confused, the Emperor looked to the general beside him and saw that he too was just as confused by the adviser’s plans. “Leo, isn’t Celes at Doma?” as soon as Leo spoke, Kefka rolled his eyes.

The general didn’t remove his eyes from the adviser as he answered. “Yes my Lord, she is stationed at Doma.”

And now the Emperor looked back at Kefka. He twirled the end of his bushy white beard as he spoke. “Having her abandon Doma and return here would take considerable time. No, I think that that would be unwise. Leaving Doma unattended would give their army a chance to dig deeper into the land—and we can’t afford to lose any ground we have gained these last few months.”

Kefka ignored the questioning glance from the general after he discarded his apple by tossing it behind him. “It is quite obvious she cannot handle the likes of Doma with what _she_ was taught. Sticking a sword through someone’s back during negotiations is likely to twist her peace talking abilities, your liege. Or have we forgotten what she did to the mayor of Nikeah?” he gestured to Leo. “Leo would fit better at Doma. Celes could handle Miranda just fine. And as it is...I have gone ahead and sent word to Celes. She will be back within the week and headed to Maranda.”

Deciding to ignore the fact that Kefka had acted out of his jurisdiction at ordering a general back to the capitol, he added in defense of his dear friend and fellow General, “As I remember, you ordered Celes not to take any terms from Nikeah, Kefka.” though his comment went unnoticed. "That sword was placed in her hand and guided."

Moving forward and clearly pleased with the idea, Gestahl gave a firm nod to his adviser before he turned to his general. “Kefka is right about Celes; she was never taught to negotiate with the enemy with anything more than a sword...I fear any peace we can look forward to is only possible via your hands my friend.”

Leo simply bowed his head to his lord. “Yes, my liege.”

As they both rose from their seats, intending to start their orders, Gestahl stopped them. “There is one more thing,” they both paused. “I have received word from my allies in the west. The Narshen apparently uncovered a crystallized monster from deep within the mountains.”

“A monster?” Leo asked, questioningly.

“So they think,” he added. “but I have reason to believe what they uncovered is an Esper and should it be, and should they figure that out, they will undoubtedly decide to use it against the Empire. If only they happened upon one we need not worry, but there very well could be more within those mountains. We must prevent this at any cost.”

Leo furrowed his brows at his Emperor. Something about the man’s tone implied something he hoped he was imagining. Yet as the Emperor turned his sunken green eyes toward his adviser, he could tell the implication in his gaze meant more. “My liege, surely you do not mean to...”

The Emperor was not in the mood to have his judgments questioned. “They have sworn to remain neutral Leo, yet they have on various occasions harbored soldiers of the rebels. It would be entirely justifiable.”

“I beg you to reconsider, your liege. The people of Narshe are a kind and respectful folk, surely if they had admitted fugitives within the village it was done through ignorance.”

“Oh I’m sure,” Kefka cut in with a giggle. “Continuously turning a cheek to our warnings does little to improve their innocence. I say we burn the pathetic little town to the ground. It is about time we took a stronger position in the north and west.”

“Enough Kefka,” Gestahl growled. “I think you both forget who is in charge at times. If I wanted that town destroyed, I would have ordered it. Instead, I shall send men to retrieve what they have discovered, and give these people the chance to hand it over peacefully. Should they resist, I will not sit on my hands. They will be taken care of immediately. Am I clear?”

Kefka and Leo bowed their heads respectfully and said in unison, “Yes, your Majesty.”

“Good. Kefka, I want you to put together a small reconnaissance team to head to Narshe at the end of the month. I think it is about time we send in the girl, as well.” Gestahl’s words perked Kefka right up, but Leo looked entirely shocked by them.

“But she has never been on the field. She is unready, and the crown...surely it being on for so long will make her unstable. Allow me to test her, your majesty, to see if she can withstand such an assignment.”

“Doctor Cid informs me that the crown has been stable these past few years, and that it will keep her in check and provide her with the knowledge she needs. She will be fine Leo, do not waste your time worrying about her. Kefka will be sure to keep her from harm, won’t you?”

Kefka smiled at his liege and then flickered his eyes toward the general to observe the expression on his face, to savor in the fact that the man was obviously in conflict over the issue. Good! He coddled the girl for too long! “She will be just peachy.”

“And I will hold you to it,” Gestahl muttered, almost as if he did not entirely trust his adviser with his most precious jewel. “Now Leo, you must head for Doma immediately. If Celes is on her way, we must reinforce our position or else risk losing it entirely. Do whatever you must to get them to dismantle their kingdom and affiliate with us, but I do not want you to baby them. I will not be publicly humiliated by their refusals for much longer.”

“Yes, m’lord. Consider it already done.” he bowed to Gestahl and as he turned on his heels he passed Kefka one long stare, neither hard or soft, merely suspiciously and then walked out of the room in silence.

As soon as the door slid shut, Gestahl sighed, relieved. “Eradicate them Kefka.”

Sickly, his adviser made a _splat_ sound as he smashed his hand onto the surface of the table and then he cackled madly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly let me get this out: I'm sorry if the formatting of the story is messed up. I'm trying to get used to the "rich text" formats. I'll adjust accordingly.
> 
> Second and lastly: If you liked the story, wahoo! I hope you like what is to come. If you didn't, please consider telling me what I am doing wrong.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Narshe

**Chapter II**

_Narshe  
The Mines _

 

A strong northerly wind blew hard against the three armored suits heading northward and carried with it, the snow of a bitter blizzard that froze their mechanical suits and frosted their windshields beyond visibility. Here in the northern continent this type of weather was common and treated as normally as one does the shine of the sun, but to outsiders, to people of Vector’s hot climate, it was an unlivable wasteland of rocks, valleys and mountains—far more despicable when considering the monster problem as well. This land suffered a persistent winter, never knowing the glory and beauty of what a spring or summer could bring, of the resources that could make any land prosper. Would it ever rise from the mud to see what potential it had?

The three soldiers continued on through this bitter cold and poor visibility northward until they slugged through dense forests and finally arrived at an opening that panned out to the east and west to lengths undetectable from their position and several yards north, where the land dipped out of sight. Large outcroppings ripped out of the ground all around them, some so large they obstructed their view, and uprooted trees that were several feet in width, indicating the age of the land—and if they were lucky, solidifying the accountability of the Imperial informant their mission relied on.

One of the soldiers pushed forward until he stood only inches from the northern edge providing a perfect view of a very particular town. He fiddled with one of the buttons within the cockpit of his suit and the windshield slid back in a snap, allowing brisk air to sting his uncovered face. He strained his large brown eyes at the distant town and glows of fire and then swore at his inability to see clearly.

“There’s the city,” the other man muttered from his spot at the edge just behind him.

“Insufferable,” the one with brown eyes muttered into the emptiness of his cockpit, leaning toward further out where his window would be to get a better view of the town even as his partner pulled his Magitek Armor up beside him. “It is hard to believe an Esper’s been found here a thousand years after the War of the Magi...”

The mining town they had been assigned to wasn’t how most would imagine it, certainly not by the two men standing at the edge overlooking the tiny town. Narshe was on a path of technological advancement often thought possible of only Vector or perhaps the kingdom of Figaro further south. It was beyond most backwater villages like Mobliz or Kohlingen, for it was on the edge of turning entirely industrial. Long pipes connected to generators ran to every wooden house—regardless if they were perched in the rocky cliffs above or in dug out hollows in the ground—bringing the kind people of Narshe heat and power. The generators had separate piping running deep into the ground through giant vented slates of steel and exhausted itself through the town’s ground via connected systems of vents and exposed pipes. From the pipes, vents and the chimneys on the roofs ran endless smoke and steam that made visibility in the higher cliffs of the town—or from surrounding peaks as this small reconnaissance team found out—exceptionally poor. Perhaps to the town this was a bonus to their heat and power, but to the likes of this tiny team it was an annoyance. And keeping all the buildings in reach were long wooden bridges—some decades old—and rope that in some places stretched a good twenty feet, while most were no more than ten feet in length.

“Don’t waste your time worrying Biggs; the Magitek will protect us against anything they can throw at us.” the second man and first to speak replied, his voice muffled from the shield of cloth protecting him from the elements. “They don’t stand a chance.”

Ingeniously crafted to turn any attack against them back at the aggressor and sustain itself for long periods at a time using various methods, the Magitek Armor were perfect vessels of destruction. They were giant mechanical armor shaped into the likeliness of some hunchbacked monster where the head was actually the operating station for the pilots. The armor lacked any form of maneuverable, human-like arms—making some consider it a weakness—with long legs that bent forward to walk, supported by thick cables, iron bar extenders and hydraulics atop large iron feet designed with one large front claw for superior speed and balance.

The cockpit—dubbed ‘nest’ by Imperial Elites who used them—was positioned at the back top of the suit, several inches lower than the head. The nest slanted backward into a cushioned back plate that stored the glass of the Magitek when not in use. In the front, acting as the control station, was the control columns and a panel between them with several buttons. Underneath the control dock was an inner compartment were the pilot’s legs could push through into the back of the head, giving control over general movement, also granting the pilots access to pedals for speed variation and provide them with quicker and more liquid aiming. The entire shell of the Magitek suit was made of reinforced steel and plates of iron, worked into twists and wraps to compensate for the weaker joints and any components that might be external.

“Wedge,” Biggs turned his eyes toward the man in question, irritated. “I was referring to the town, _not_ the people.” with that he gestured toward the town below angrily. “Bah, I bet this is all some sort of flimflam!” he shivered. “And it is so damn cold!”  
  
“I suggest you ignore the cold Lieutenant, we will be here a while.” said Wedge as he shifted his tek until it stood facing the last member of their team, whose Magitek held the honorable insignia of the Imperial Elite Force—a black rose on a shield flown over a red field. “And I doubt they would have given _her_ to us if this was at all any bit false.”

Biggs suddenly jerked his head back to take a look at the ‘her’ in question. Her features were hidden away behind her suit’s glass, but he could feel her staring at him. It was like she could peer right into his mind and dig through all his secrets, all of his fears...he shivered, noticeably.

“Ah, yes...our witch.” he stressed the word as he continued to glare at the suit, hoping somehow the girl in question could hear him. “I heard rumors about what she did to the soldiers back at Vector, you know. She fried fifty of our best in minutes...kind of makes your skin crawl, doesn’t it?”

“Relax,” Wedge ordered coolly. “She’s got the crown on. With that thing on her head, she’s a mindless puppet.” there was a hissing noise as he pressed a few buttons on his control panel, and then the girl’s windshield slid back and revealed the witch. “The girl won’t even breathe unless we tell her to.” to demonstrate this utter control of the girl, Wedge told her to stop breathing and for a long moment Biggs watched—both in fascination and horror—as the girl halted her breathing. And then with a sigh, Wedge told her to breathe. Evident to her new orders, a puff of white drew from her pale lips into the cold air.

Even as Biggs watched her face for any change, any emotion, his captain turned his suit away from the girl, visibly disturbed in some way, and brought his windshield back up. “We’ll approach from the East.”

“Directly?” Biggs tore his eyes away from the girl to stare at his captain in shock. “Can’t we go a route they can’t defend?”  
  
Wedge said, “Kefka ordered us to attack directly and exterminate the villagers, orders directly from the Emperor himself. There is no point in sneaking in.” and then pushed the control column sticks forward to march forward. “Move out!” quickly, Biggs gave the witch one last look and then promptly followed his commanding office east.

By the time they reached Narshe the blizzard worsened; it drove a terrible force against their backs and rushed by them in gusts of snow and branches torn from the frozen trees around them. But despite this weather, Biggs and Wedge spotted several men sitting atop the front gate of the town, unfazed by the treacherous weather or cold. At each end of the gate stood a giant pyre, lit into a giant blaze, that provided them with enough light that the guards immediately spotted the tek. One of the guards jumped to his feet and stared at them for the longest moment, as if unbelieving Imperials were closing in on their poor little town, and then he drew something off his belt and blew into it as hard as he could.

A blaring noise ripped through the frigid air—he had signaled the entire town. All at once the rest of the guards ran out of sight, presumably down a stair case or into their positions they thought would grant them some form of advantage, and then four large iron bars were dropped in front of the gate into iron hooks, barring it close. The barking of dogs came next even as Biggs paused before the gate while his captain took several more paces ahead of him before he too stopped. There was a pause, and then Biggs brought his windshield down even as the witch stopped directly behind them. “What do we do? Charge the gate?”

Wedge released his windshield and then pointed ahead, turning his head to look at the witch. “The girl will take point. Keep to our left lieutenant and I’ll make sure our right goes unchallenged.”

Biggs saluted him Imperially. “Yes sir!”

Without another order the girl took hold of the control columns and thrust the iron tek forward, rushing by her comrades and straight into the gate. The pressure dented the gate but with the second thrust it came down as if it were nothing more than twigs. Three men were knocked into the snow as the debris came tumbling down around them, pinning them. As she pointed the maw of her tek toward the pinned men, Wedge stopped her. The men there would die anyway, broken beyond what could heal or left in the cold to die. “Proceed! Don’t waste time with the riffraff!”

She moved passed the men without any hesitation and proceeded to rip through the armed forces that appeared from around the corners of the gate. Biggs brought his tek up and over the rubble and took to protecting the witch’s left flank while Wedge handled the trapped men with a stomp of his iron foot. It took only a minute for them to handle the rest of the guards and when Wedge looked up to give new orders, he saw that the girl had gone on ahead, continuing with her slaughter—her command still fresh in her mind.

Biggs glared at the girl and growled. “Damn witch.” she torched four men in one attack and then shot a round of lightning through two more atop towers, who were aiming spears and arrows at her. “No one should have that sort of power...”

Wedge pulled to a stop beside his friend. “If she didn’t possess this power, the Emperor would never have made the progress he has. We would not be standing here today as Magitek Elites—personally picked by our lord.” The witch decimated a platoon of men riding horribly deformed dog-like beasts scaled in armor, not even sparing the flimsy dogs that barked at her from their owners' porches. “She’ll be the reason Gestahl rules the United World.”

For the second time that night, Biggs shuddered, not from the cold. “It is evil, that power...but if anyone had to have it, I’m glad the Emperor does.”

“As am I. Now let’s move out. I wouldn’t want to explain a scrap on the girl to Kefka.”

“Yes sir!” Biggs shouted enthusiastically before he raced ahead.

By the time they caught up to her, there was no need to protect her flanks. She ripped through their defenses far too easily—easier than what he or his lieutenant could have ever manage. And when they witnessed the witch summoning flame not from her suit, they knew how she managed these men so easily. For Wedge, it was both a blessing and a curse to have this girl on their side. How long could the crown upon her head keep her from turning on them? How safe were they, or even the likes of the Emperor?

 _She’ll be the end of us all_ , Wedge thought cryptically as she slung the head of her tek upward, tossing a man twenty feet and in through the roof of some poor civilian’s house. Three soldiers flanked her but she incinerated them within seconds without ever taking her eyes off six men ahead of her. As the soldiers withered away in unnatural fire and the men in front of her died one by one, Wedge and Biggs took up cleaning house for those that managed to sneak up behind her. As each soldier died, three more sprouted up from some crevice or the like, as if their numbers never ended.

With a swear Biggs pressed an orange button and gased a squadron of men uniting against him in large numbers. Breathless they began to dig at their throats, their eyes turning purple and their skin boiling. “Ha, take that you bastards!”

“Biggs! Up front!”

Wedge’s voice caught his attention. He turned his tek around just in time to see twenty men in the cliffs above tossing spears at them while others knocked arrows or tried to drop torches into their nests. The girl was too preoccupied with her battle in front of her to even notice, and Wedge was too busy fighting back two more of the large beasts to be able to take care of the men above.

Acting as quickly as his Magitek allowed him to, he pulled back the control columns until the head of his suit lined up with the men on the cliff. He pressed a white button. A little flash on the control panel came and went, indicating his power cells were ready for the attack he buttoned in and with a slam of his fist, the white button activated. Out from the mouth of the tek came a horrible pop and a rush of lightning struck the edge of the cliff and slowly twisted upward into the sky, electrocuting the men into charred husks. As the charred bodies fell around Wedge and the girl, Biggs swore.

His control panel was flashing a warning of power loss. He quickly leaned out of the cockpit to look at the power cells located at the top of the thighs of the Magitek. The left was intact but the right cell was no longer spinning, its energy spent. Without both of the cells in working condition, he was defenseless unless he could recharge. “Crap,” he mumbled aloud, closing his windshield so no one could take advantage of his weakness. He fiddled with several buttons on the panel until static could be heard. “Wedge? Can you hear me?”

There was a pause. “Why are you just standing there, Lieutenant?!”

Finding no way to sugar coat it, he simply answered, “My right cell is out. I need a recharge and I haven’t any left in the compartments.”

“I’ll get the girl on it,” he answered roughly. And true to his word the girl’s advances on the men of Narshe suddenly stopped and then she turned her own tek toward Biggs. “There. She should give...wait, no!” he shouted into the comm.

A flash of light raced towards Biggs and struck his suit with so much force it nearly buckled to its back. His head knocked into the back of his windshield from the jolt and then as his tek rebalanced on its legs he came crashing into the control panel. His suit cried against the lighting until a loud pop came and went accompanied by another flash. His Magitek suddenly powered on, the right cell spinning once again.

Slowly sitting up straight even as he eagerly ran his hands over his body, inspecting himself for any injuries, he gave a nervous chuckle. Except for a bleeding nose and a horrible swelling on the back of his skull, he was perfectly fine. “I’m alive...” he said into the empty air, delighted.

Wedge’s voice carried through the comm. “Biggs! Biggs! Are you okay? Do you read me?!”

Taking a second to shoot the girl ahead of him his deadliest stare first, he pressed the comm. “I’m fine. My damn nose isn’t though! What the hell was that all about?”

The witch turned away to finish her orders while Wedge answered, “I told her to give you one of her spare cells and instead...”

Biggs was sure he was as pale as a ghost. “Let’s just get this over with!” the further they were from Narshe and the witch, the better. Sometimes he wondered why he even accepted a position in the Elite ranks.

Wedge seethed with anger. If it wasn’t for the Emperor’s need of her, he would have killed her right then. Instead, he roughly said into the comm system, “Agreed. We’ll deal with her mutiny later.” but he was going to be sure to be on the alert to stop any further defiance from the girl right in its tracks.

Up ahead they caught sight of the witch battling over several men on bridges, tearing through them with spell after spell, some not even supported by the Magitek. One of the bridges caught on fire and spread across to the second bridge connecting to a generator. It exploded, incinerating the men next to it in a flash and deafened the remaining men. Wedge lined up his sights with the distracted men but before he could so much as press a button the girl stood up straight from her cockpit and extended both hands towards the men. “Get down you fool!” he shouted, forgetting his windshield muffled him too thoroughly for her to hear. One of the men to her far left was aiming a bow down at her and just as Wedge managed to turn his comm on to warn her, the guard knocked the arrow.

She never flinched as the arrow raced by her head, tearing a thick slice through her left cheek before it embedded itself thoroughly into the back plate of her nest. One word rang through, crystal clear, “Fire” and then the men were all lit ablaze, screeching in horrible pain as they toppled over the bridge and to their death. The archer already strung another arrow, intending not to miss, when she turned her sights toward him.

Trying to intercept, Wedge tried to find a spell that would not destroy the cliff—for she was beneath it. He had none. All of his spells would destroy the cliff. The archer suddenly combusted into flame and in irritation Wedge wondered why he even cared for the girl. _She’s nothing more than a tool_ , he told himself. _Nothing more._ Finally deciding she was not important enough to warrant worry from _him_ , he looked over his shoulder to see that Biggs had engaged a smaller group to the their east. When would they give up? How many more of their men need die before they realized fighting back was hopeless?

“The mine is up ahead,” Biggs suddenly said into the comm system, to both of his teammates, after he finally dispatched the soldiers. “I suggest we get there before more of these miners show up.”

“Agreed,” Wedge initiated the comm system to connect to the witch’s suit. “Get back here and watch our backs.” next, to Biggs, “Let’s not take any chances with her again; lead point.”

“Yes sir!” he shouted back, forgetting to use his comm, even as the witch strode passed him. The blood had frozen already in a stream down her cheek and the skin around the injury had already begun to irritate, but her expression remained blank despite it, as she complied to her orders and watched their six. She stood straight in her seat, mechanically turning her head this way and that way, watching the shadows and cliffs around them. This time he didn’t forget to press the comm link to his captain and asked, “Should we be letting her watch our back?”

Wedge never answered him, and Biggs wasn’t sure if that was because his captain was too worried to say anything or if it felt the question had no merit. Not sure if either made him feel better about the situation, he tried not to let the girl behind them interfere with his train of thought as he caught up to their captain.

Eventually they came to stand before the northern mines, several miles off the north gate of Narshe and high up enough to only see the dim glows of fires. The surrounding area was unlike anything they saw before; the mountains seemed to reach far into the sky, never ending, while the cliffs were morphed unnaturally, perfectly smoothed until the edges were round. Chiseled into the ends of the cliffs were odd markings they had never seen before. They almost looked like writing of some sort, yet...

The opening of the cave was thankfully not as odd. It had been blasted open quite some time ago, maybe a couple years ago, by the usage of explosives. The railroad leading into the cave, however, was definitely new. Large iron barrels were loaded up over their limits with rocks and invaluable crystals, which was discarded to the elements as nothing more than dirt. Pickets and shovels were stacked neatly outside the cave opening alongside a giant generator rattling against its iron bracket. It was hooked up to several small metal devices with large barrels extending out of buckets that had metal handles. The snow had also been cleared out of the area and above them, to prevent any further snowfall, was a thatched roof of metal, rusted and dented in most places. All of the snow was pushed over a ledge to the far east, straight down into a valley that never seemed to end. The lack of snow made it impossible to establish if anyone was inside, and how many.

As Biggs crawled out of his suit to investigate the odd looking devices attached to the generator, his captain took to scanning the perimeter, his eyes searching the cliffs above them carefully. The witch sat motionless behind them, her blank stare following the opposite direction of the captain. “Doesn’t look like anyone is inside,” Wedge mused aloud, though there was a ting of doubt. “At any rate, we won’t head in without the suits.”

Biggs dropped the device when fire gushed from the barrel and jumped back, alarmed. “What the hell was that?!” yet his curiosity was spiked! Was it like their suits? Was it magic? How did the Narsheen find magic?

Wedge never saw, but was not pleased by his lieutenant in the slightest. “Stop goofing around and get back into your suit.”

“Wait...you want us to head into a cave with our Magitek? There could be insufficient room to maneuver or even to fire our weapons without casualties to our own side.”

“I didn’t ask you for your opinion Biggs. Get into your Magitek. Now.” complying with a look of agitation, the lieutenant climbed up the spine of the suit and into his nest. “Good, now rid us of this gate.” the lieutenant grumbled but otherwise smashed through the iron barred gate easily. “Witch, lead point.”

She instantly shoved by their Magitek and walked in through the darkness as if it were nothing, as if their reluctance was unreasonable. Biggs scoffed. “That isn’t courage.”

“It isn’t stupidity either, she’s not allowed anything but obedience.” Wedge remarked coldly. “Better her than us. Let’s get a move on, the sooner we get this Esper the sooner we can go home.”

“Aye,” Biggs mumbled under his breath, something telling him he wasn’t sure he was going home.

Inside they found the cave relatively open, with the ceiling extending a good twenty feet off the ground in most places and the path carved out smoothly enough that they would have no problem navigating the cells of the mine. The railroads continued on further into the mine northward, with branches heading off into other openings to their right. To their left was a cove where tools, barrels, and various other equipment laid scattered unlike the equipment outside. At the far off wall was a lit fire and campsite, indicating that there _were_ people inside.

Up above them various pipes and wires hung from the roof, channeling the smoke out whilst still bringing in fresh air and any fuel they might need. One of the pipes, perhaps the largest, went on ahead and was currently in use, for it was rumbling nosily. Across from their position was a rack of weapons, with two swords missing, and below more of the odd devices that shot fire.

Wedge glared suspiciously at them while Biggs tried to follow some of the pipes’ directions, to figured out where they were going. “They mean to trap us.” he said suddenly. “I suspect it will involve their explosives, or perhaps those odd weapons.”

“Then they should know that Magitek is tolerant to any heat _they_ can manage.”

“But explosives?” Wedge dared.

“No, not so much, but neither are they, right? Unless they plan to sacrifice themselves we don’t have to worry about them trying that.”

Biggs seemed confident in his words, but he had no idea how far the Narshen soldiers were willing to go, or even that of the civilians who had joined the fray back at the town. Wedge wasn’t so sure. They were up to something, and that something was not good.

 _At least we have the witch on our side_ , he thought, satisfied. He knew she would confront any obstacle and conquer it with her magical abilities, regardless of how impossible it might seem. To her, he knew, following the mission through mattered more than scars or possible death.

“Alright, I suppose sitting about worrying isn’t going to do us any good or get us through this mission any faster.” he looked over to their female accompany. “Girl, stop standing around and scout ahead. Biggs, check our power cells. I don’t want a repeat of what happened earlier.” before the girl could go any further than ten feet, he stopped her. “And girl...do _not_ attack unless I say otherwise, do you understand?” she sat still for only a second before she continued on silently.

“Think she heard you?” Biggs asked as he went through their power cells. Wedge watched after the girl’s Magitek, even after it vanished into the darkness of the mines. That feeling from before was beginning to thicken in his guts. Something was coming for them, and his fear told him it would be something they could not fight back.

“She heard me,” he answered, slowly. “How many cells?”

“We are good to continue. We have enough left over, if nothing happens, to take us back to South Figaro.”

Wedge gave a pert nod and then pressed a button on his dashboard. “Is it clear up ahead?” there was a long silence between them, but then the girl’s monotone answer ‘yes’ came through crystal clear. “Alright, let’s take formation and get this done.”

The men gathered into a tight formation and pressed forward, reuniting with their female comrade just moments later. She was waiting in the darkness, with everything but her communications turned off so when the right arm of Biggs' suit scrapped against hers it startled him. He revved his lights on and spotted her staring lifelessly ahead. He moved his lights forward to see what captivated her and noticed the reinforced iron gate. It was a three set gate, one after another.

“I'll handle it,” Biggs said into the comms.

Wedge shifted in his seat and took a moment to inspect the dark corners of the mine shaft, and the high cliffs above and all the pipeworks. Something didn't feel right. He glanced back at his friend. “Just be careful, it could be a trap.”

“Aye aye sir,” he brought his suit's arms up into an X pattern and forced his suit to run at full speed. The first gate broke easily, but through the second he had to grind his suit's feet into the ground and push his way through. The gates shattered like glass into the forward darkness. “Done,” he said over his comms, retracing his steps back so that they could reform position.

“Good, let's...” Wedge paused. “...did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Biggs peered ahead, through the dark entrance. There was a long silence, unbroken until the sound of iron gate was shuffled around, as if someone was walking over it. “What the hell is that?”

Wedge turned his comms on and said, “Someone's headed this way, prepare for—” then the area became engulfed in light, from above and from ahead of them. Several men came out of the cliffs above carrying torches and weapons. “Damn it!” Wedge brought his arm up and tried to summon a quick burst of magic but something thick and green dripped down onto his arm, plunging it to the mine's floor and practically gluing it there. His friend was busy inspecting the gated area's source of light to notice the men above. “Biggs! Above us!”

His Lieutenant's suit was suddenly restricted by a large brownish color and ripped forward into the darkness. “Biggs!” he raced forward, ignoring the arrows and spears pelting him but one of the men above leapt down onto the Magitek's arm, struggling to keep his grip.

“We're not letting you get the Esper!” he man cried out, fingers clawing into the crevices of his suit's armor plating.

Wedge had enough; he slung his arm back, slinging the man through the air and roughly into the wall and pointed his arm up at the cliffs. The next instant the cliffs were frozen solid but his arm was still glued to the ground. He turned to rip at it, just then noticing the girl still stood quietly in the darker corner as ordered. “What are you waiting for girl? Go help Biggs! Now!”

Without confirmation she charged straight through the gates, engines whirling with preparation of magical use. _Damn it, I knew this was a trap._ He ripped the last chunk of goo from his arm and floor, freeing himself. He took a moment to inspect his suit's arm; where the goo touched it left marks, as if the goo had attempted to eat through the armor. The distant sound of explosions caught his attention.

He pressed into the dark entrance, his tek's suit crushing the bars of the gate below and causing an echo to play through the tunnel. He followed the tunnel until it opened into a large cavern, where the girl was fighting back a giant yellow-brown slug creature that had its body wrapped tightly around Biggs. Its shell was two times larger than its exposed body, and contained hundreds of spikes that sent sparks between each other until it reached the largest and tallest at the tip of the shell.

Wedge fumbled through the controls for the comms. “Biggs! Biggs, are you okay?”

There was a bit of static, but his reply came through. “Yes, yes, I'm fine. The damn thing's going to crush my suit at this rate though.”

“Then I'll get rid of it for you.” Wedge snapped, pulling his arms forward toward the thing's exposed neck. “With light—”

“Hold it!” Biggs' voice cried through the comms. “This thing's a....” there was another pause and a soft swear. “They must have trained it to guard the mines!”

“What are you talking about? You know what this is?” he stole another glance at the creature deflecting the girl's assaults off with gurgles and sparks of lightning.

“Ever heard of a lightning whelk?” his lieutenant asked. “It's a monster that absorbs lighting.”

Remembering his text books and the live representation in his classes in the Military Academy, he recalled the professor's lecture, particularly the end of it. “...and stores the energy in its shell!” although the whelk he and his classmates actually got to see was a youngling without its shell, the dreadful beast before them was definitely the same thing.

“Right. So whatever you do,” Biggs was addressing them both. “don't attack the shell!”

 _Don't attack the shell, should be easy enough to follow_ , Wedge thought solemnly, seeing that the only exposed part of the whelk was its neck, which it had firmly wrapped around his lieutenant. He made contact with the girl's suit. “We need to free Biggs, but whatever you do, do not attack the shell or we will...what are you doing, stop!”

The girl charged a lightning spell and directed it at the whelk's underbelly, where only a foot and a half was visible to the eye. “Stop that right now!” but she released the bolt of lightning. It struck its mark with absolute accuracy and made the whelk cry out and release its prisoner. Biggs' suit stumbled forward, nearly colliding chest first into the ground until he forced the suit's arms out to protect itself.

The whelk was twisting around like a snake, its horrible cries intensified to the building electricity racing across the towers on its shell. It was nearing a counter-attack. Biggs was up now, facing the whelk. “If she does that again our suits are useless. It has enough electricity in its body to fry out a single power plant in Vector.”

Wedge threw the weight of his armored hand at the girl's suit, knocking her off her feet and onto her back. “Stupid witch! Next time listen or I will serve you to the goddamn thing myself!”

“Wedge, we need to get rid of it before it releases its charge. Our tek frying is not the only danger. If it releases that charge in this small cavern, it will most likely collapse on us.”

As the girl's higher grade suit began to lift itself out of the dirt and rocks, Wedge glanced at the creature who had now taken refuge in its shell. The spikes were still transmitting electricity amongst each other, filling the cavern with light and the crackle of a storm. “The texts said that thing would come out right before it discharged, right?”

“Of course, but we have no idea when that will happen so we will never be able to fire a spell in time. Our suits' reactions aren't fast enough.”

“Maybe so,” he said, thinking. “But the girl's suit is higher grade, it could transmit the necessary information for the attack faster than ours.”

“It still isn't as fast as organic reaction,” Biggs countered.

“Then we will need to be quicker about it. What should we use?”

Biggs took a moment to look at a piece of paper he had attached to his dashboard. It contained various instructions, reminders of each tek's capabilities and weak points as well as a separate piece of paper instructing them on each and every protocol involving the witch, the first of which was ' _protect the girl no matter what_ '. He crumpled the paper and threw it at the floor. “The girl's tek missiles are our best option. They will fire faster than the spells, and they are far more powerful. The only problem we should face then is the inaccuracy due to the recoil. But that cannot modified it to increase accuracy unless...”

“Unless what?”

“Unless she redirects all her energy into the coordinates and aiming systems to stabilize itself. If she could do that, the tek's recoil might be reduced enough for her shot to make it.”

“Does she have enough energy left?” Wedge asked.

Biggs punched in a few commands to connect to the girl's suit and swore. “She's twenty percent too low. Any attempts would render her power at sixty-six percent, and that would make redirecting the energy almost useless. We need a one-hit strike, or this will not do.”

“Then our only choice is to attack before it releases its charge.”

“If it hits us, our suits are dead.”

“I know,” Wedge clicked the button to connect his comms with the girl. “Did you hear everything?”

“Yes.” her reply was as monotone as before.

“Damn girl can't even feel fear,” he grumbled under his breath. “Biggs and I will charge our curative spells to prepare for the aftershock. When that thing emerges, strike it down with whatever you can and keep going until it is dead. Is that clear you two?”

“I got it,” Biggs muttered.

“Understood.”

“Good, let's finish this.”

She waited for them to bring their suits into a defensive position behind her before she charged the creature. She used her tek's arms to lift the creature up, to expose the belly of the shell and then tossed it on its back. The shell's roundish figure caused it to roll across the dirt, and a few of the spikes to emit its charge. The lighting danced across the floor, causing shallow sparks to flood her tek's feet, before the neck of the whelk whipped out to readjust itself.

Quickly before it could fully recover she slung her tek's right fist into its face, knocking it back into the dirt and then with her left arm lifted it back up and slung it to the right. The creature cried out in pain but lashed out at her as quick as lightning. Its fangs dug straight into the armor of her tek, as if it were just paper, and tried to twist itself around the suit. But she raised both arms up and then spread them out, knocking the thing back on its shell. She reached down, steam rushing out of the back of the tek in stormy clouds, and lifted the thing above herself.

“What is she doing?!” Wedge cried out, turning to his terminal to try and override her system; he was locked out, even with his password prompts. “She's locked me out!”

“What?” Biggs tried too. “How the hell did she do it?!”

Wedge watched as the witch wrestled with the whelk. “....forget it! Attack! That thing will kill us all if it gets a chance to discharge!”

“But...but the girl—”

“If she dies, she dies! Now fire!”

Biggs aimed his arms up at the creature, hands tightening around the controls. The girl was still in the way, struggling to keep the whelk off balance, for them. Because they had expressed the urgency. He knew it had to be the cause of her refusal to abide by commands. And regardless of what she was, he didn't feel comfortable with directly killing her, she was just a girl, someone who served under the person they all respected and loved beyond else.

“I said fire!” Wedge howled.

With a growl, he pressed the button on his dashboard and closed his eyes tightly as the magic ripped from the palms of his tek and raced toward the creature and girl. She barely had the time to release the creature to face the strike. The last thing Wedge saw before the flash blinded them all was the girl staring at him with the oddest expression...as if she was...

When the light faded, they saw that her tek was still standing but she was passed out inside, head leaning against her backseat, bleeding. The whelk hadn't been hit, for it stood too far behind her. It was either a cunning monster, or circumstances were far more dire for them than they could have thought possible. Lighting was rolling across the suit, and when the smoke cleared from the suit they could see she had risen her tek's right arm to block the strike and it was blown completely off the rest of the arm. Pops and fire released from the exposed joint and leaked oil by the gallons below, drenching her feet and that of the whelk.

Wedge saw an opening. “The oil Biggs!” but then he realized that the only one with fire capabilities in the slightest was the girl—and they had knocked her out, or killed her, in their haste of fear. _Crap!_ He turned his tek up and aimed at the girl; his dashboard was beeping a warning of low fuel. He pressed a button to release his curative spell, praying to whatever god out there that the whelk did not move in front of her again.

The stream of green light washed over her but she made no movement, so the whelk crawled over her tek to speed toward them in thunderclaps. It shot lightning off at them instantly and savagely, its aim untrue only for the fact that it had been injured by the girl. “Wedge!” He looked around to see what was wrong and saw that Biggs' suit wasn't moving. “I'm out! I can't move!”

“Hold—” the words died in his mouth as the whelk smashed into him and sped towards Biggs, the charge on its back about to be released. He could only watch in horror, unable to help his best friend, his only friend. Just as the creature twisted around him, about to spring for the kill, two large black cylinders rushed passed him—the speed of which caused his suit to rattle—and tore into the exposed belly of the whelk. For a second nothing happened but as the whelk recoiled away it exploded. He turned in his seat sharply even while pieces of the whelk rained down upon them and Biggs was cowering in his suit.  
  
The witch sitting up straight, pale purple eyes staring coldly at him with her last her tek arm still lifted, and steaming to the point it was ready to explode itself. Blood was still rushing down the injury on her head but she didn't look fazed at all. She had saved them. Though he knew it was the crown that had forced her to do so, he couldn't help but feel grateful—at least for the creator of the device. He took a moment to watch her, unmoving while the whelk's remains poured against her in disgusting chunks, before he pressed his comm to with Biggs.

“Are you okay?

“Yea,” he answered, shaken. “But I really hate this place.”

Wedge laughed. “As do I...let's get the damn thing and go. I think we're ready for our retirement.”

Biggs did not argue, “I think so too. I feel fifty and I'm not even thirty.” he tried to open his windshield but it wouldn't budge. “The damn thing won't open...that's strange.”

“What's wrong?” Wedge forced his suit to hurry to his friend's, as if he could see the other dashboard. He could see Biggs within, behind glass and whelk goo, hammering away at his terminal.

“It isn't responding at all,” he shouted. “Nothing but the comms—” and then all Wedge could hear was static. He started pressing the comms button repeatedly. “Biggs? Can you hear me?” he looked up to see his friend's mouth moving but no sound could be heard. And then he stopped, staring ahead of himself with wide eyes; Wedge followed his eyes.

Chiseled out of the back of the cavernous room and encase in a giant shard of ice was the object of their mission. An Esper. It glowed intensively from within, making only the shape of it visible. From what Wedge could see, it had wings and stood so tall within its icy cage that the tip of the ice only reached several feet higher, and the width of it took half of the wall.  
  
Biggs was staring wide eyed at it, mouth agape. “This must be it...the frozen Esper?” he pressed a button to release his glass canopy; it rolled away in a clap finally and then he stood up in his seat and on his toes to get a better look. “This thing is huge...I've never seen anything like it.”

Wedge was hypnotized. There was something so strange about it...like he felt a tugging at his heart to look away, a warning so primal he was sure it was telling him it was dangerous, but the beauty of it and the sheer size of it captivated him. Neither of the men heard the girl's tek struggle up behind them, directly in front of the shard. Finally, he shuddered and stepped his machine back.

“I don't like this...” he glanced around, fear gripping him. “that thing is creeping me out...”

“Do you think that thing is alive in there?” Biggs asked, breath a misty cloud in the air. The air grew heavy and the crystallized Esper's glow from within intensified. Wedge stepped back again. “I think that's a yes!” Biggs' nervous laughed pushed him even further from the Esper just as the ice glowed so richly the cave lit up for a moment straight.

“Something isn't right here! Biggs, we need to leave, now!” he tried to pull his machine back and rolled his glass down. His lieutenant complained about his suit and he growled. “Leave the damn tek!” the man beside him grumbled and started to descend his mechanized suit when the light flashed again, this time the girl strode passed them, eyes mystified and unblinking, and stopped directly before the ice. Biggs had stopped halfway down his seat to watch the girl and when light emitted once again, he looked directly at his captain with eyes of horror.

“Captain! Captain!”

Wedge was too in fear of the light now brought the cavern into sunlight to pay his lieutenant any of his attention. _Where's this damn light coming from?!_ He looked at the crystal and the girl, and saw her reaching one hand out toward the ice. _That witch!_ He pushed his tek's arm up to aim at her, his magic ready to fire, when all of the sudden a pain swept through his body and he crippled onto his dashboard, faintly aware of his friend screaming for him.

He brought a hand up to press the button to fire on the girl and saw that his hands were transparent. He looked at Biggs and saw the same thing; fearful round eyes begging him to tell him what was wrong before a painful screech ripped from his own lips and he disappeared in a flash of light. Biggs' cry went unheard, and the sobs that wracked him couldn't be described. He had lost his best friend, the only person he had in this world. He turned his eyes to the wicked girl, enraged and knowing she had some part in it all.

“Wh-what was that?! What did you do to him?!” but the girl never answered. The hand she had on the crystal illuminated. “Wedge?!” he turned around in his cockpit, tearfully. “Wedge, where are you?!” silence. He tried to scramble out of his seat, eyes plastered on the girl again. “What's going on?! Where is Wedge?!” from the spot where the girl touched the crystal it dulled in light.

She stood completely, placing her other hand directly across from the other, and the lights came at a faster and stronger pace. “Bring him—” in an outward explosion of light the girl was tossed from her open cockpit and into the dirt, without so much as a scream or a cry, and laid unmoving just ten feet ahead of him. When Biggs reached for the ladder beside his seat, intending to escape, he found that his body was transparent, just like with Wedge. But just as the scream for help escaped his lips, his body vanished in a blinding light.

The light of the Esper faded slowly, returning the cavern to the dark it once had before the fight had broken out and leaving the girl unconscious in its clutch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always...thank you for reading my story! If you like it, please consider leaving a review with whatever you might have to say about it. If you disliked, still cool, but I also ask that you consider reviewing in that as well. I love chances to improve, and I can't very well do that properly without feedback! :)
> 
> Love ya readers! Thanks again!


	4. The Pilot

**Chapter III**  
_Narshe_  
_The Pilot_

 

The strangeness and unfamiliarity of _thought_ caused her to jolt upward in a breathless cry. She was plunged into a darkness she was unaccustomed to and searched the unknown for something of familiarity. The room she was in was small and boxy, and smelled boldly of coal and smoke. Across from the little cot and only several feet away from her was a smoldering fireplace that gave enough light to surround only a foot around it properly, revealing a pair of boots reclined into the softness of a chair. All but the boots were submerged in black, giving an impression that the snoring was coming from absolutely nothing. Beyond the sound of the fireplace, and that of the snoring boots, she heard a whirling howl all around her, muffled she thought, by the pale wood making up the walls and roof.

_Where am I?_

The realization of thinking it startled her and she lifted a hand to her head, which was now throbbing painfully and crusted over where a wound had been. “Uh...” Her voice came out weak and hoarse, and alien. Something stirred. It was the boots. They vanished out of the light but she couldn't find energy to pay them any attention for her head deserved it all. Thoughts, pain, fears, curiosity...it all swarmed about in a demanding storm. She didn't know what to tend to first.

A soft baritone voice came from the darkness, “Ah, careful now, you have a nasty head injury. Best you lie down and rest.”

She blinked into the darkness, where she thought the voice originated from. “Where...where am I?”

The voice became joyfully cheery. “My, my! And I only just removed the crown!” he came closer and now a pale face, covered in a graying blond beard, smiled at her. Eyes of pale green greeted her in the same friendly manner. “That is quite impressive, dear girl.” The pale face disappeared into the darkness again, visible only when his boots appeared before the smoldering fire again. He reached down, tossed something into the fire and then walked away. Slowly but surely the room started to brighten and the fire grew into a steady roar.

The light revealed a rather homely little room, not quite decorated but properly equipped for a battle against the cold. There were fur cloaks and other animal skins hanging neatly from a hook beside the left of the fireplace, right beside a door of dark oak. The roof had been knitted through across the beams with what looked like a large blanket of fur, opening only enough for the fireplace to escape on through the roof. The floor too was covered in a large, circle rug in a rough shape of some animal. Looking across from the fur rug, she saw the man clearly now, digging through a chest to the right of his chair.

She lifted the blankets off of herself weakly and cautiously, unsure of even her own movements, and tried to raise out of the bed. But suddenly, as if dunked under icy water, she shivered and collapsed back into the thick pillows and reached up to cover her forehead, a surge of fire now burning angrily behind her eyes. “My head...hurts.”

The man reappeared by her side and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, to coax her softly back into the comforts of the little cot. “Easy there...” her eyes sought out the device in his hand curiously. As if knowing, he lifted it for her to see. “You were wearing this when I found you.” The shape of it was so odd. It was like a half band of strange metals and little needles, most of which looked broken or bent. At the very center a little red crystal hung suspended in an arch by a little chain. She wanted to reach for it and when her fingers brushed the cool smoothness of the thing, she recoiled as if burned. Something about it made her feel...wrong. “It is called a 'slave crown' by most. The men you were with were using it to control you.” sensing her confusion, he removed the device from her sight by holding behind him. “It was robbing you of your thoughts...making it so you would do whatever they told you.”

Was that why her head felt so...foggy? So empty and unknown? The strangeness of fear gripped at her heart. “I...I can't remember a thing.”

The man sighed heavily. “I'm sure whatever you cannot recall will come back to you in time.” he turned away from her to the fireplace, unable to see her staring after him. He tossed the device into the fire and watched its brushed surface darken for a moment, letting the silence continue. She appreciated it, though she couldn't understand why. The silence seemed to settle her mind, to allow her to think without pain and confusion.

 _He said it...it robbed me of my thoughts? But what does that even mean? Did it make my head hurt so? And where am I?_ And yet, as desperately as she wanted to know the answers to such questions, the next to pop up in her head was far more interesting; _who am I?_ The vagueness of something fluttered across the vastness in her mind, like a single leaf blown across the clear blue sky. Something she knew yet remained enchanted in mystery. It seemed so foreign, but when she said, “Terra...” aloud, it felt just right. But why?

The man turned to her quickly, puzzled and frowning in complete disbelief. “Excuse me...?”

She blinked back tears, unsure of why they were there, but answered, “My name...is Terra.” she looked up and saw his pale green eyes shimmering in joy. He practically sprinted over to lift her head into the light, so that he could see into her eyes. She hadn't the energy to fight him even if she felt the need to.

His eyes searched her for but a second before he said, sounding every bit intrigued, “Impressive! I have never heard of anyone recovering so fast. You must be made of tougher stuff than most...” the way he said it, even if he offered a quiet laugh, sent shivers down her spine.

Finding her voice, she asked him, “Where am I?”

He smiled brightly. “You are in my home, safe and sound. But let us worry about those details later. For now you need your rest, and plenty to eat in between. I will fix you up some stew and you will close your eyes and let your body and mind heal, hmm?”

Unable to argue, as the weariness of the events felt so powerful, she simply offered a quiet nod and closed her eyes. The sound of him moving around the little room was enchanting, and peaceful, and soon her wild thoughts settled and the sweetness of sleep found her.

For several hours she remembered vaguely waking and falling back into a deep sleep, until at last she was awoken by the aching of her stomach. She opened her eyes tiredly and smelled the savory stew even from the little room she was in. The kind old man wasn't with her any longer, but she could hear him banging silverware and bowls about, preparing the stew. She wondered just how long she had been asleep, but she could not judge from her spot among the sheets and furs.

Carefully, as to not strain herself like earlier, she pushed the blankets down and lifted herself out of the pillows. Her head protested angrily but she ignored it. The smell was inviting, and what’s more, the darkness became less inviting. She couldn’t place the sudden desire to be with someone, as she couldn’t remember ever wishing for it or anything different, but she knew she found comfort in it.

Her feet were bare when they touched the exposed stone floor. The icy kiss made her flinch and lift up her feet back up into the warmth and safety of the little cot. A pair of black boots were lined up at the end of the bed. She reached for them, hoping they were hers, slipped them on and hurried to the door. Outside the little boxed room, light rushed in, illuminating all around her. With the light the smell carried so potent that her stomach protested. She shyly stepped out and into the unknown room.

The kind old man was humming to himself quietly over a stew pot he had dangling above a ghastly flame. The room was larger than the previous room, so much so that it crept along the northern end of the room into another section. Littered across this space were sofas and chairs and bookshelves, and even dangling animal skins from the roof. She moved in and the floor creaked. He turned to give her a warm smile. “Ah, you’re awake...I would have liked it if you stayed in bed though.”

She looked around again, taking his notice of her as a sign of approval to explore his little house. There was a stockpile, not so stocked though, at the back wall complete with an ax and other equipment for cutting and hauling lumber. A portrait, old and faded, hung above it of some woman in a red gown and gold jewelry. On the other half of the room, a smaller section where a door was currently sealed with a long plank of wood and a suit of armor suspended on an iron rack. It was dented and scoffed; it had seen plenty of battle. She looked at it longer than she intended, and he laughed dryly.

“Back in my day men fought hard for what they believed in,” the tone of his voice made her look at him. He was staring at the armor with such intensity she could feel the topic was too much for him. “Now we just hide under our rocks hoping we don’t have to see what is changing around us.”

“...people hide under rocks?”

He looked at her with sparkling eyes and a booming laugh. “Haha! No dear girl...no, nevermind, they actually do I suppose,” he grumbled as he recalled a majority of the houses in his village were built under cliffs or into the mountain side. He shook his head.. “Let’s discard the discussion at hand...such dreary talk so early in the morning is unsettling.” he gestured to a comfy, tattered old chair in front of the fire. “Take a seat and I’ll have you a bowl of stew in no time.”

Doing as directed, she took a seat. It was far more comfortable than it looked. She reclined into with a content smile, only leaning out of its loving embrace for the bowl of stew he held out for her. She stared at the lumpy, brown cream with a puzzled expression. “What, don’t like stew?” he asked. “I made it with fresh venison.” he sat in the chair beside her with an ‘umpf’ and started to eat heartily.

She lifted the spoon and took a bite of the liquid and lumpy brown things. The flavor was unreal. She ate more hungrily than he did, finishing the bowl in the matter of minutes. He asked if she wanted a refill and she nodded vigorously. As she began her second bowl, he said, sitting back down, “You know...I never did say what—” the sound of men shouting and dogs barking interrupted his sentence. He shot from his chair quickly, causing Terra to slowly rise to her feet as well, confused. His eyes widened the longer he listened and he turned to her. “They’re here.”

“They? Who?”

He took the bowl from her hands and sat it down. “Listen to me...if these people find out you are here, they will take you to the tribunal for a not so fair trial...or worse, drag you out into the snow and have you executed.”  
  
She blinked rapidly at him. “Me? But...but what did I do?”

“There’s no time to explain!” he took her by the arm, glancing back at the door sealed with the plank nervously before dragging her with him, back into the boxy room entrenched in darkness. She stumbled in the darkness, eyes straining to adjust, until he stopped her at a wall. “You need to get out of here! These fools aren’t going to listen to reason...”

They could hear someone pounding on the door. “Open up! We’re here for the Magitek armor pilot!” another voice was overlapping the first, “Open this door right now and hand over the girl! She’s an agent of the Empire!”

She glanced back the way they had come, fearfully. “Empire? Magitek armor...?”

He took her by the arms and squeezed, getting her attention. “Listen to me! You need to leave! Out this door you will come across a bridge heading toward the mines. Make your way through and hide. I’ll...” he hesitated. “I’ll keep them occupied.”

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered, fearing the unknown through the door. “I’ll hide here and...and—”

“There is no hiding in this village,” he whispered, opening the door, allowing the harsh, icy wind from outside in. Snow flooded through in howls. She shivered and stepped away from the door. “You need to!” he turned and took something off a table near the fireplace and shoved it into her hands. As she fumbled with it, to figure out what it was, he took her by the arm and shoved her out of the door. “Remember; head through the mines. If you stick to the western wall and its paths, you will make it out. Once you do, you stay there until I can come get you. Do you understand?” she was tongue tied, unable to answer. “Do you understand, girl?!” she nodded and he sighed. “Good luck.” and then he slammed the door and locked it.

She stood there, dumbly listening to the sound of his footsteps as he ran back to the main room. There were shouts and swears, and then she heard the sound of multiple men and dogs rush into the room. Quickly and fearfully, she turned and struggled through the white haze of the blizzard.

The path was thick with snow and treacherous with rocks and loose edges, and the haze made visibility impossible. She paused alongside the end of the house, slouched against the snowy wind and unbundled the thing the man had given her. She held it up after she finished and strained her eyes in the limited light the early morning and blizzard allowed; it was a black vest, bearing some foreign symbol over the heart and with it a black gambeson, fitted in a womanly fashion and studded with silver. With it, a long piece of steel wrapped in leather. She only then realized she was wearing a rather thin blouse of light gray, so she struggled into the gambeson and then the vest. The steel she was unsure of, yet staring at it filled her senses with understanding and she clasped the belt around her waist. Whatever she knew of it, she knew it was better than having nothing. But she was still so cold by the time she finished and began to feel her way down the rest of the house that her teeth were chattering and her nostrils felt frozen over.

Her foot suddenly fell through something and she reached out, desperately clawing at the end of the house for something to hold onto. Her next foot went through and the fall made her bite her tongue. She held back the need to cry and climbed her way back up to the safety of the house walls. She was covered in snow now and her tongue was bleeding, and everything just feel so impossible. She slid down the length of the wall and into the snow to catch her breath, deciding at the same time she would not move from this spot, even if it was deathly cold and her fears threatened her.

 _B_ _ut that man...he said to get to the mines and hide._ She glanced the way she had nearly fallen with a shiver. _What do those men want with me?_ Through the white of the blizzard, from the direction she had been heading, came male voices, desperate and loud in their search. Carefully she crept away from the edge of the house and pressed herself flat against the wall, listening closely to the voices of the men getting closer and closer until what they were saying became clear.

“The old man did something with her,” one said, teeth chattering almost as terribly as hers.

“That’s for sure,” another snapped. “Split up; you three head north, in case she’s making her way to the abandoned mines and the rest of you, split up to the east and west. I want this village torn apart for that girl if that’s what it takes!”

The sound of their boots crunching snow dulled into the distance and she realized then she couldn’t sit still. Even if she could somehow not feel the cold, eventually they would come searching for her behind the old man’s house and find her, alive and unable to move or dead and frozen. Far more carefully than last time she lifted herself up and slowly skidded a foot forward to test the ground where she walked. Several steps in the ground gave in, but she was quicker and jumped back, but her methods carried far from the house and deeper into the snowfall. She prodded through the snow until it reached her knees and kept going, hands out in front of her blindly and eyes squinted as if it could help her vision pierce through the haze.

 _Where are the mines?_ She thought helplessly, confused, cold, hungry and scared. She should have asked him for more...and how could she navigate this storm? How did he think she could? She wanted to scream out in frustration and just as the thought crossed her mind to, she tripped and landed face first onto something hard and slick with ice and snow patches. In the fall, she had bitten her tongue again and tears crippled her vision. The fall had resounded in the cold air and within minutes she heard rustling from beneath her. She struggled up, wiped a hand against her lip and felt for what she had fallen on. She brushed snow away and realized it was a bridge! And from the gaps between the boards, she could clearly see four men below, staring up at the bridge from twenty feet below.

She sucked in her breath and leaned out of view; if she could see them, they could easily her. _What do I do?_ She glanced ahead, across the bridge. Ten feet ahead of her the bridge disappeared into a sea of white. The men below began ushering each other about, swearing and cursing the cold, and she decided whatever she did she had to do it now, before they heard her or saw her. She carefully got to her feet and inched her way across the bridge. The bridge betrayed her with each and every step, creaking and crunching, but the men below did not react. The end of the bridge was in sight a moment or two later but as she stepped toward it a board under her foot came loose and her leg fell through. She had managed to stifle back her cry of pain as to not alert those below, but as she tore her leg out of the wooden hold, the piece that had broken loose fell completely and landed right beside one of the men.

He glanced up, saw her and screamed ‘ _She’s above, she’s above!_ ’ and then all of the sudden things were flying pass the bridge’s sides in an attempt to maim her, but the man who saw her howled that they were missing.

" _I can’t see in this fuckin’ blizzard!_ " another cried in defense.

She raced down the bridge, causing it to shake and cry loudly, alerting them to what she was doing, or rather where she was going. ‘ _Toward the mines!_ ’ one other said, and she could hear them running about below her, trying to reach her. She pressed herself further and faster, faster and faster until her lungs and legs burned and her throat dried, faster until she collapsed into the soft cushion of the snow. Her hands dug through the snow and her knees into sharp rock below as she gasped to regain her breath. She was ready to end it here, to wait it out, but the men were not so easily deterred though as she could hear them howling even in the blizzard. If she were to run and run like this, she would never make it.

She knew she had to find the mines though, to find someplace to hide, not only from the men but from the cold. “I don’t know where the mines are though,” she cried into the bitter cold, frustrated. As if to answer her, she heard the men shouting ‘ _...she went toward the mines, toward the mines!_ ’.

Curiously she lifted her head and saw a dark formation looming out of the white of the blizzard about fifteen feet ahead of her. It was dull in definition but dark enough to show through the snow. She got to her feet, stumbling at first, and made her way towards the silhouette. When her hands met hard, jagged coldness she realized it was rock. _This must be the mines...but where is the entrance? Oh, I can’t see anything and it’s so cold._ She shivered but decided repeating what she had done with the old man’s house was wise. She slowly scaled the rock face, moving foot and hand cautiously towards the east.

Eventually the sound of the men vanished into the fierce howling of the wind, which only got colder and colder, as if something had previously stood between her and its blunt force. Her fingers were numbing and her toes felt ready to break off by the time her hands went over nothing and she fell forward into an opening. The wind dulled immediately within the pitch black in front of her, but raged on behind her in the deadly whiteness. She looked back and with a shiver decided the utter dark was better. She took the next moment to to brush the snow and ice off of her body and to warm up her hands that were painfully stiff and cold. She knew enough to know that she wouldn’t survive another hour or two in the cold if she didn’t do something.

_No, I don’t have to. The kind old man will come for me...he said he would._

But regardless, she pressed in, hoping the mine turned out of the mouth of the cave and away from the cold. Her wishes were granted relatively close to the entrance so she sat down against the wall of the turn and huddled up against herself by pressing her shaky knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. In the dark, alone and unable—or rather, unwilling—to move, she could only think of her hunger, the cold and her indescribable thirst.

Leaning her head against her padded knees, she tried to think on what to do next. What should she have done? What should she do? Everything had happened so fast, and the old man had been so persistent in forcing her out of the house without explaining. _Maybe if I tell those men I don’t remember anything...they will leave me alone._ Meekly she lifted her head to look toward the darkness she had come from and knew that was unlikely given how angry they sounded. _What could I have done to them that was so bad?_ Tears burned in her eyes at the helplessness she felt. _What do I do?_

 

* * *

 

“Where is she, old man?” The old man refused to answer, turning his eyes away. The Narshen guard shoved him to the floor with a vicious growl. “I asked you a question, traitor.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. There aren’t any girls here, as you have found out, no doubt, from your raid.” his gentle eyes went to the mess the guard’s men had done to his house; nothing was in working order, and most of his possessions had been broken or thrown into the fireplace to force him to talk. “I think it is time you leave my home, captain.”

The Narshen captain narrowed his dark eyes, spat at his feet and turned. “Come men. We’ve wasted enough time on this man.” as the men filed out of the house, very much reluctant to head out into the cold again, the old man got to his feet in a stiff groan and watched the captain head for the door before stopping to look back at him. “If I find out that you were in fact harboring that witch....well, the Council will know of your treachery and I will be the one to carry out the justice.” and then he slammed the door behind him, knocking his portrait off the wall.

The old man sighed and leaned down to pick up the portrait. He glanced around the room that had once been cozy and comforting and saw his life torn to pieces. He reached up to hang the portrait back up and began to wade his way through the destruction, shoveling broken things into a pile and overturning his sofa and seat, and picking up his discarded pots and pans.

“What the hell happened in here?”

The old man glanced up from where he was knelt, hands full of glass shards, and frowned at the young man hanging halfway through the window. “What do you think happened here?” he demanded, standing to toss the shards in his hands into a larger pile of rubble. “While you were busy robbing and plundering, the Narshen guards rummaged through my house!”

The young man lifted his hands in a defensive position, half smiling. “Come on now...you know I prefer the term ‘treasure hunting’!”

The old man laughed mockingly, “Semantic nonsense!”

“There’s a huge difference!” he shouted with a toss of his arms, shaking snow off his leather jacket.

“You never change, Locke,” he mumbled, turning away to pick up something.

The man, Locke, shrugged. “A good man doesn’t change,” he said. “Anyway, is there something you needed me for? I received your note....” he dug through a pocket inside of his jacket for it, but couldn’t find it. The old man knew he had lost it already.

He really wouldn’t change. “There is indeed,” he lifted a spilled bowl of stew with a worried exhale. “I met the girl.”

“Which girl, Arvis?” he asked, glancing about as if he expected her to be standing there suddenly. And then his eyes widened. “You don’t mean the girl everyone is searching for in town, do you? The Imperial pilot that decimated the gate?”

Arvis nodded solemnly and glanced towards the door. “The city guard is pursuing her as we speak. I sent her into the mines, hoping I would be able to reach her myself, but...” he shook his head, as if to dispel a certain thought.

Locke frowned. “You can’t save everyone, you know.”

“It could be done, if we worked together.” he seemed taken aback by something for a moment before saying, “Narshe has the strength to repel the Empire if they would just unite.”

“Against those machines? I don’t think so...they’re scared for their own lives. The resistance would get their skin torn from their backs, and for what? To fight in a losing war?”

“The people are just too stubbornly independent to join our resistance group, that is all,” he defended, a bit more hotly than he intended, as he faced the young man. “I tried to tell the captain that the Empire was controlling the girl, but he wouldn’t even listen...”

“Controlling her? How so?” Arvis explained the head piece the girl was wearing and how she could not recall anything beyond her name, even what he witnessed in the mines where she had blacked out. At this Locke snorted and protested to some unsaid joke. “I’m not a boy anymore, so stories of magicks and goblins eating bad children don’t scare me.”

“Damn it Locke, this isn’t a joke,” he hissed. “The girl is out there right now, alone and cold and injured. If you don’t believe me, fine, I shall leave that to you to find the truth of later. All I ask is that you find her and get her to safety. Figaro for now, and then to our group in the mountains.”

“An awfully long journey to make for a strange girl who just raided our lovely little community...”

“Locke,” he started with an annoyed growl.

He raised his hands. “Alright...alright,” he went back to the door. “...so you want me to get her out of Narshe? Fine, I’ll do it, but,” he grinned sheepishly. “Remember you owe Locke Cole a favor!”

Arvis laughed very tiredly and extended a hand to shake with the young man. “I wouldn’t think of any other payment, Locke. Just be careful out there, and protect her the best that you can. She will need it.”

The young man flourished a charming, wide smile. “Don’t worry...I’ve had experience being a bodyguard!” he left the house in a half-run. Arvis walked to the door and watched the young man disappear into the white haze.

“Good luck, Locke...”

 

* * *

 

The cold and hunger had finally driven her to her feet again. She knew it was unwise to head any further in, but she knew turning back and into the blizzard was certain death. If the cold wouldn’t take her first, it would be the men looking for her.

So she had went down the turn into the mines, stiff fingers prodding the walls carefully as he feet scoffed stone and dirt alike. The air became stiff and dry, and oily, but far warmer. It was welcomed, for a time, until the cave took her so far in that the cold or warmth didn’t matter so much to her anymore; what little light she had become entirely lost to her. She was so scared that she stopped moving for a long while, trying to listen in the direction she had come from for any noises—hoping the old man was tracking her. But the sound of water dripping, of something scurrying across the floor and her chattering teeth was the only thing she could hear.

 _Maybe I should turn back..._ she slid her foot in a position to turn around, but something hissed nastily in front of her. She froze and sucked in her breath. The hissing came and went ahead, getting closer and closer, while her heart started to race. And then she felt something slide over her boot, and something press against her trousers. She screamed and jumped back, tripping over something under her and landing right on her back. She barely had the time to register what had happened before the hissing noise started to crawl up her leg. She screamed again and kicked her legs wildly into the dark, but the thing was latched onto her leg.  
  
Panic gripped her and she kicked one last time, throwing the thing off her leg. She heard something rustle around in the dark in quieted squeals and then stumbled to her feet, no longer sure which direction was which, and far from the wall. Yet she could still hear the unknown danger rustling around her, squealing in such a way she was sure it was toying with her. She stepped back, eyes searching uselessly to follow the sound. That’s when she heard another pattern join the former, from behind her. And then three, four and five—she was surrounded by their horrible squealing and hissing.

Fearfully, she cried out into the dark cold, “Stay away!” her voice was hoarse and painful, but she felt she had given enough emotion to the command that it was somewhat intimidating. Yet the noises continued on, slowly but surely getting closer to her again. Something rubbed against her right leg and she threw herself away from it, landing on her elbows and chin scrapping against the floor. The squealing pressed on, and this time she felt more of them crawling up her legs. She rolled over and kicked and screamed but the things held on, hissing once again in vile complaints to her fighting. “Stay away!” she cried again, this time the mines lit up in a sparkling orange light and for half of a second she saw the things on her; mattered furry creatures with beady red eyes and about three feet in length. And then it returned to the darkness and the squealing was cut off by rustling.

She struggled up to her feet again, chest heaving, mind whirling. _What were those things? What...what jut happened? Where did that light come from?_ The noises crept closer again and this time she reached blindly for the steel at her waist. The thing slid from its sheath with a liquid hiss and felt heavy in her arms for just a moment before settling into a comfort she could just vaguely remember. One of the furry things got close enough for her to hear next to her, she slashed madly at the direction; her blade met something almost solid and a horrible, loud squeal filled the air as her blade tugged free and banged against a wall.

At least she knew where she was... _almost_.

She put the sword into a position before her, sweat beading across her forehead and chest. The creatures were still pressing her and then suddenly one launched itself at her left leg and she swung at it. She missed the first and second time, but the third struck it. She wasn't sure if it was dead or if it had run away so she turned her attention back to the noises in front of her. “Go away!” she howled as she swung at their direction, frantically and angrily. The sound of her sword cutting through air, empty and defeated, drove her anger further, carrying her strength to keep going and going until the steel felt like it weighed a ton in her hands. She stopped only then, her breathing shallow and her limbs trembling. It was quiet for such a long moment she thought she had scared them away, or perhaps won, but then they started up again and she dropped her sword in defeat. It was no use fighting them if she couldn’t see them.

And then, as the noises came running toward her, she felt a tingle run through her and before she knew it, her hands were extended before her and the mine was lit up once again. A pillar of fire, so bright and warm, soared forward, engulfing the furry little creatures in searing roars. Her breath rushed out of her lungs painfully and her vision blurred the further the fire went on, until half a moment later the fire ceased from her palms and the cave was dropped into darkness around the corpses burning angrily in front of her.

Finally her breath came back to her and she collapsed to her knees in a gasp. Her ribs felt ready to burst outward and her lungs felt on fire, but worst of all was the pounding in her head and the searing heat running through her entire body. It was painful yet it was pleasing almost at the same time, as if something lost had been returned to her finally, after decades of searching. Her fingers tingled, no longer stiff and cold, and her body warmed as if she still sat before the fire with the kind old man.

 _What...what was that?_ She lifted her hands to look at them, expecting charred skin but found only smooth skin instead. They were red though, as if she had gripped something too hard or slapped something, and steamed like freshly brewed tea. The light from the burning bodies was slowly fading and she knew she had no more time to wonder on what had happened. She dug around the floor for something, anything, to use as a torch and recovered a long, broken piece of wood. She held it against one of the corpses until it caught on fire and then turned to look her discarded steel.

And then she turned around on her feet, still shaky and weak, to inspect her surroundings. Regardless of the light she had no idea which way she had come from. Both the north and south looked identical but when she held her fire towards the south, the flame flickered. Something told her that was the way she had come, but uncertainty made her linger. Maybe it was the direction the old man wanted her to take, to hide at? But she knew she hadn’t gone very far into the cave to find an exit where the direction she had come wouldn’t also cause the flame to flicker. So with a steady breath, hoping it would calm her shot nerves, she went north, ignoring the way that her torch seemed to wish to go.

The mines started to reveal details and creatures that made her fearful to her core; things that were smaller or bigger than the things that attacked her. All lurking in cracks or overhanging ledges, watching but unmoving. Had they been there the entire time, watching her, waiting for her to make a mistake? For the right and perfect opportunity to attack? She shivered and waved the torch at them, hoping it would cause them to scatter, but they remained as if stone.

So she tried her hardest to ignore them and eventually, as the mine started to diverge into multiple tunnels, she entirely forgot that they were still around watching her. But now she had a new problem; her path split into three directions. And what’s more, as she crept closer to the different tunnels, she realized the ground dropped away into a cavern of black. Creaky, dark bridges connected the land she stood on with a smaller island to her far left, where the western tunnel ran on through to the north while the last bridge disappeared into the right tunnel.

The old man’s warning told her to stick to the west, but was the western tunnel truly even west? It went west for the bridge, but then quickly turned north into a long tunnel ahead. And the bridges hanging over the bottomless pits...she felt he would have mentioned something like this. She held the torch further out over the ledge and peered down while she kicked a rock into it. She saw it hit the wall once before it fell into the blackness without any sound. Carefully she stepped away and looked at her only option with a heavy sigh. She had to act quick too, because the stump she had used for a torch was nearing its end and wouldn’t be able to be held any longer for the flame.

Having had terrible experience in her very limited memory of bridges, she took a moment to put her nerves in place and then crept her way across the bridge to the island. Each step made the bridge sway but she found it far less frightening than the one outside. The boards seemed firmer and the creaking didn’t sound like protests or warnings, but more like a guide. When she reached the island, she turned to smile back at the bridge, quite pleased with herself for her victory. She hadn’t been paying attention to her torch, so the flames neared her knuckles and she dropped the torch instinctively, so that she could tend to her hand.

But then she felt it. Or rather, didn’t. Her knuckles were untouched. Warm, of course, but untouched. She traced where the flame had licked with confusion and then gasped when the torch suddenly went out. She was dropped instantly into darkness once again.

_Oh no..._

She carefully knelt to feel around for something else to use, but her hands only went over dirt, rocks and the burnt out stump she had been using. Now she was stranded, unable to move at all without the guide of light.

 _Maybe..._ she placed her hands against each other in uncertainty to the idea that fluttered through her mind then. No. She had no idea how she even did what she did, and wasn’t even sure that she could maintain it to make it act like a torch. And even if she knew how to, there was one thing she knew; it had utterly drained her. She still felt weak in the knees from earlier. _But what do I do?_

In the distance she heard something moving and fearing it were more of those furry creatures, she decided trying was better than facing those things alone, in the dark and stranded by a sea of abyss. She lifted her hands and shook them, as if it would work. She just felt foolish. “I just want light,” she whispered into the dark, irritated. “That is all!” her voice echoed and she shrunk into herself in shame. That was even more foolish than the stupid gesture she made. She listened for the noises and when pleased they sounded a bit off, pointed her hands outward.

 _I don’t want those things near me...please work, please!_ She felt a tingle in her arms but that was all. Encouraged she closed her eyes and tried to force it. She didn’t know what she was doing, or what to try, but she would go through all she could think of if she had to. First she thought of the scary creatures, then she thought of warmth and light, and then all of them at once in the memory of what happened, but still the only response was a gentle tingle. Frustrated she let her hands drop and a shaky breath out. What was she missing? Was it the fear? That was the only thing she hadn’t tried yet, but couldn’t even if she wanted to. It would take the blasted things attacking her again to feel as scared as she was, but she couldn’t risk waiting for them. Not in the place she was at.

 _I don’t understand..._ She felt a chill against her face and realized she was crying. _Why did he send me out here?_ She was hungry, cold, weak and scared, and now she was to die by those vicious little things or a misstep into the abyss around her. And for what? Things she couldn’t remember. She would die not even knowing who she was, why she was in this dreadful place or why those men sounded so angry with her. She felt so helpless, so useless, that she wondered what way of dying seemed more pleasant; those creatures probably eating her alive or a long fall. But she didn’t wish for either, but felt pressed to pick as the noises grew closer.

‘ _....this....heard...._ ’

She perked up instantly. It was not the creatures, but a man. Maybe it was the old man, or someone else who could help her out of this horrible place. She froze in place, trying to decide to shrink quietly into the darkness to wait for the men to pass by or to shout for them for help. Her voice felt frozen in her throat, on the verge of betraying her decision to wait and decide. Whatever those men wanted of her, it couldn’t be worse than freezing to death, starving to death or being eaten alive, could it? But she knew when light started to dance in the direction she had come from, that the thought of not knowing what they would do to her was worse than knowing what the creatures or nature could. She stepped back, able to partially see now, until her back pressed against the wall.

A moment later two men appeared, surrounded entirely by rich light. One of them held a massive torch in his hand while the other held firmly onto a spear. The second had a bow with him, with the tip of his knocked arrow wrapped in cloth. She sucked in her breath and wished with all her might that they would not look her way. But then the archer turned and saw her.

He shouted as he pointed. "There! There!” before he dipped the tip of his arrow into the torch and then pointed at her. She let out a scream as the arrow flew toward her and then ducked; it reflected off the wall behind her with a _thwap_ still aflame. She hastily grabbed the arrow and took off for the northern bridge, using the arrow and their torch as a guide. More arrows flew by her, some landing just inches before her, others fly over head with cries. The men were chasing her across the bridge, she knew, because their shouts weren’t growing quieter and the arrows still struck the ground behind her in _thwaps_ and _clanks_. The arrow went out a second later so she tossed it and continued on, only faintly able to see the walls ahead of her and the distant turn to the left.

She made her move to run down the left tunnel but skidded to a stop with a gasp as several more men filed out of it with spears and torches. She stepped away slowly to go back the other way when the first two soldiers blocked her prior path.

“There she is,” one man from the new group howled, tightening his grasp on his spear.

Helplessly she glanced between the two groups, backing up until she was pressed against the wall. The spearmen lifted their weapons in a position to keep her from charging, while one man from each group pressed on, drawing their swords. She stepped towards the corner one step at a time the closer they got, body trembling, and then the two lunched towards her and she screamed; not because they had rushed her but because the ground gave way under her feet and suddenly they were rising far above her and she was rushing down into pitch blackness. She clawed desperately in the air for something to grab but then the light of their torches disappeared as her body struck ground.

Her vision flickered as she gazed up at the long distance to the men’s faded light before she tried to roll over on her knees, still dazed, only knowing she had to move. But pain flared through her entire body and she collapsed into the dirt with a weak cry and struggled to hold her eyes open. It was too much for her. She was carried away in disjointed consciousness, hearing hundreds of voices echoing all around her and feeling a rooted pressure in her head, until at last her eyes closed.

‘ _My sweet little magic user..._ ’ a voice giggled into her ear.

She opened her eyes and saw that her hands were bound to cool, iron arms of a chair. Her head whistled in pain as she lifted her head to see where she was. The room was square and shiny, and stunk of oils and smoke, and glowed in a gentle yellow from metallic cones above her. Steam blew in from the floor all around her, heating the room and carrying in a dreadful sound with it.

She shook her head and saw dirt and darkness for a moment until her eyes closed again.

‘ _With this crown,_ ’ the words were chilling in her ears and she heard someone move to stand over her shoulder. A bony hand touched her shoulder but she could not move away from it despite the unbridled fear that filled her. ‘ _you’ll be all mine._ ’ the voice was beside her ear now, hot against her skin and sickly in its smell, possessiveness and uncaring rooted deep in its tone. And then the hand was removed and a man walked around her left to stand before her. He had fairly light skin, with an upside down exclamation point tattooed on his right cheek. He had even fairer hair than he had of skin, held in a loose pony tail and beaded heavily with bright beads and ribbons.

In his gloved hands, he held a silver band. She tried to fight the restraints, to cry out, but her lips were sealed and her body wouldn’t move. Not even when the man placed the band on her head. As the cool steel touched her forehead she was able to scream so loudly and so painfully she felt her throat tear in agitation.

Suddenly she plummeted down through the floor, still in the seat and splashed through black liquid. Her voice rushed out of her lungs, suddenly quiet, and then her chair struck hard floor and she jostled forward, hands free from the restraints. She looked up and saw walls of flame surrounding her and men rushing her in battle cries. She was looking through glass, she realized, and watched in horror as the glass slid out of view and her hands extended outward against her will toward the men. Fire engulfed the men the next instance and her attention was drawn to a shrilling giggle behind her. Her eyes followed the sound mechanically and she saw him. The man from before, with the tattoo on his cheek. He was in a hideous, mechanical beast, howling with laughter as he watched the men burn.

‘ _Good! Good!_ ’ He gestured to the men rushing from their right. ‘ _Burn them all to a crisp!_ ’ she turned to face the men and just as the fire shot of her hands, her vision filled with flame, the echo of the man’s chilling giggles still ringing through her head.

     Her vision flickered back to darkness, her sense of sound filling with the familiar drip of the mines and the taste of blood and dirt in her mouth, but yet she could hear someone’s firm voice as if he stood above her. She struggled to stand but couldn’t and closed her eyes, allowing the voice to carry her away.

‘ _Soldiers of the Empire!_ ’

Her eyes opened and she was standing behind a group of four. A stout man stood on a raised platform ahead of them all, overlooking a sea of men and a thunderous cry of applause. There was a young woman to her right with long hair of honey that hide all but a long cloak of stark white and matching boots. To her side stood a tall man of dark skin and shaved head, clad in beautiful pale green armor that had been gilded and polished so finely the woman reflected in it.

And then there was the man with the tattoo to the far right. His body slouched under the heavy red and yellow materials he now wore. There was a red and white striped ruffle around his thin neck, so messy that it seemed to match perfectly with the disheveled clothing and mismatching colors and polka dots he fashioned into his attire.

‘ _We stand at a dawn of a new age!_ ’ the ocean of men howled in approval at the stout man’s words. ‘ _The lost power of magic has returned to us! We are the chosen ones!_ ’ the crowd reacted with thunderous applause once more and began marching in place. Her feet carried her toward the stout men just as the others moved too and watched as they all threw their hands skyward in repetitive gestures. ‘ _The time has come for us to claim our rightful dominion over the world!_ ’

Her head started to buzz and the vision started to deteriorate even as the stout man’s words ‘ _Nothing shall stand in our way!_ ’ and that of the crowd ‘ _Long live Emperor Gesthal!_ ’ vibrated through her mind with such intensity she thought her head had been placed in a vice grip.

And then all was black and her head was quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for chapter III (or IV if you count the prologue as 'Chapter I' I guess). I tried to capture a rawness to Terra's awakening that could help show the reader she was new to everything around her without being completely...what's the word? 'Uneducated', is the best word, I suppose. Slips of knowledge have made it through her amnesia, and returns slowly but surely. At least that's what I'm trying to provide here.
> 
> Anyway, I hope it was enjoyable for you all. If you have something to say, please consider leaving it as a review or pming about it. I'd love to hear about it!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. The Traveler

**Chapter IV**  
_Narshe_  
_The Traveler_

 

Within an hour of his search he came across evidence of someone within the mines; miner rats hacked up and others burnt to a crisp. He touched the burned ones to see how long ago they had been killed but they were as cold as ice. He stood and rubbed his fingers against his pant legs with a frown. He lifted his torch higher and fixed the pack across his back before he pressed north. He arrived a junction of bridges and found scattered arrows on a smaller island over the abyss. He knew he was close; the arrows were of Narshen guard make. Only who knew how much longer wandering the dark for a stranger. He sighed. The cold had already made his fingers and his knees painfully stiff. Oh what he would do to sit before a roaring fire and drink until he passed out.

 _What did I ever do to be put in a situation like this?_ He thought as he continued pass the northern bridge slowly, holding his torch high above him. More arrows went by under his feet until they stopped at a gaping hole that broke passage from the eastern tunnel. He swore. He used that passage a lot. Now he would have to figure a way around it or build something to go over it the next time he was free to do so. Nevertheless, that was the least of his worries. When he glanced down the hole with his torch forward, he could see a dark shape at the bottom. Someone had been standing on the ground when it gave way, that much was clear.

He hoped it wasn’t the girl as he dug through his pack for his tools. He tied a rope into a jutting rock of the wall, checked its strength and then tossed it over the edge. He reached into the dirt to coat his hands and then carefully scaled his way down the hole, holding the torch with his spare hand. Rocks slipped and gave way where his feet pushed off the walls, crumbling to the ground below in dull echos. He had to stop several times down, afraid he would cause a rock slide and bury not only himself, but the girl below...if it were the girl.

“Damn caves,” he grumbled hotly under his breath. The one con to treasure hunting were all the damn caves. Arvis had once said it was his excuse to pickpocket poor folk, but he never went into the caves Locke has. If he had, he would probably pickpocket too.

When he glanced over his shoulder and saw the ground, he let go of the rope and fell to his boots with a loud ‘ _umpf_ ’ and felt a tinge of pain from his knees. What a bad choice. He quickly turned to the rubble and started to dig his way through the rocks and dirt. He reached the end and was puzzled at the lack of a person until his hand brushed something ahead of him. He lifted the torch and shone it ahead, catching the image of a girl half buried in dirt and rocks. Her face was covered in dust and her hair shone like platinum under his torch, and all of the bruises and cuts were perfectly evident in the light.

After he knelt down to inspect her, he could see a thick tear through her cheek, a bleeding nose, blood trickling down her right ear and pale lips with other injuries. She had been down here for some time. He pressed his fingers against her neck to feel for a pulse and sighed in relief when he felt a steady response. She was so cold though that he was sure she wouldn’t last any longer in the mines. He started to dig her out of the dirt only to be interrupted by a thump against his head. He fell onto his back and scrambled away, unsheathing his daggers as he rose and dropping his torch. Standing over the girl were stout things with stark white fur and dark wings. Each had a different color tuft dangling off an antenna and a different weapon as well, but all looked ferocious in the dimming light of the torch, taller than three feet and meaner than a rabid dog.

 _I can’t believe it_ , he thought, watching the creatures as one of them leaned down to inspect the girl itself. This one had a red tuft and a spear two times its height, and the largest wings of them all. _Moogles! But what are they doing down here, and with her?_ The Moogle looked up at him and made a gasping noise before it and the others fluttered away into the darkness. _What was that all about?_ He reached down to get his torch and slide it between some rocks to hold it and then he started to dig her out of the dirt when suddenly light was shone across him and the girl from behind.

He froze instantly.

“She’s wanted by the tribunal,” a voice growled and Locke glanced over his shoulder at him. It was the captain of the guard, surrounded by twelve men of his company. _Wonderful..._ he thought as he evaluated each man as carefully as he could. _And there’s a whole bunch of ‘em._ Though only four of the men held lit torches and looked utterly untrained and ready to run in the face of battle. That was a good sign if it came to it. “Leave her and go about your business, thief.”

Locke stood to face him. “Look...we both know I’m not going to hand her over.” he reached for the dagger at his waist and the dagger at his lower back. “So let’s just cut to the chase.”

“That Imperial bitch murdered hundreds of our comrades, our friends and family,” the captain protested. “I would think not even you could ignore that, Cole.”

“You thought wrong,” he growled.

The captain shook his head and unsheathed his sword. “Then this will be your end as well.” the rest of the men followed their captain and readied their weapons.

 _Crap_ , Locke took a defensive position in front of the girl, one dagger higher than the other. _Twelve against one in a large cavern._ _Well I know t_ _hey will push me away from her, and in that, I won’t be able to do anything when they kill her_.

Two soldiers pressed forward with their spears outward while another followed behind, sword drawn and in position to strike. Locke knew the spearmen would break off to take his sides while the swordsman attacked him from the front, so he slid his foot back and reached into a little pouch on his belt. He tossed something at the men’s feet and in an explosion, the cavern filled with dense smoke. The Narshen guards gave shouts of surprise before settling back into silence, their boots scoffing rocks, the only betrayal to their position. Locke carefully stepped back, managing not only to avoid making a sound, but coming to stand by the girl’s head. He glanced down at her for a second to think on what to do, but knew the situation wasn’t good.

Twelve against one just couldn’t look pretty no matter how he cut it.

“Come on out thief, we don’t have all day!”

“In good time, captain,” he answered quickly. _Crap...I’m really in it deep this time._ He sprang around a boulder and raced into the smoke. The men’s shouts of ‘ _I heard him!_ ’ and ‘ _that way!_ ’ lasted only a moment but it was enough for Locke to pinpoint their locations. He found the first relatively quick and punched the guy so hard he thought he felt a tooth break and then took the torch out of his hands and hurled it in the direction he thought another was standing. It struck rock and Locke swore, jumping out of the way just as arrows struck the spot he had been standing. He hid into the smoke again, catching his breath and trying to think. “I can do this,” he told himself. _It isn’t much different from the caves off the shore of Tzen..._

Something touched his arm and he stumbled away in surprise, turning to face the man only to stare into the pale blue eyes of the Moogle with the spear. He was hanging off a ledge with a determined look in his eyes, as if he was trying to will Locke to listen to something unsaid. “You again?” he hissed. “Go away, this isn’t a safe place—” just then a man came out of the smoke beside him, slashing and screaming. He knew he wouldn’t be able to block the guard in time but before the man could reach him, the Moogle launched itself off the ledge and struck the man across the head with the shaft of his spear, rendering him unconscious.

“Have you found him?!” the captain howled into the dark.

The Moogle lifted itself back to its tiny feet and looked at him with impatience. “Ao naa, kupo!” it pointed ahead, back towards the girl. “Ao naa!” it ushered again, this time its voice sounded strict.

“What?” he said, exasperated. “I don’t speak Moogle!”

The Moogle looked agitated before it turned to fight off the last two guards. Locke quickly went to help, tearing the second off of the group to the ground in a soundless struggle. The man had thicker arms and was able to hold Locke off him, but went out easy when his head got bashed into the ground. He got to his feet and turned to help the Moogle only to see that the little thing was standing atop the man’s chest in victory—no blood had been spilled. Their eyes met for a brief moment before the thing was kicked off the guard and onto its back. The sound it made filled Locke with dread, and froze him with momentary confusion, until the captain emerged out of the smoke with a scowl.

He pointed his sword at the downed Moogle and made a move to end it and that’s when Locke’s feet moved. He didn’t think, he just attacked, slashing almost as madly as the dogs had attacked him. His hateful scream echoed eerily in the cavern, but didn’t seem to disturb the captain as each strike was parried and countered. The man brought up his sword to deflect another strike and then countered with a stronger attack, just about knocking Locke off his balance.

Locke doubled to the left to avoid another strike and then rolled to the right to avoid a jab. As he got to his feet he stumbled forward, turning halfway through, and threw his lefthand dagger. The captain barely had enough time to jump out of the way but did so at the cost of his momentum and position. Locke found his balance and turned to continue the assault with a sequence. The man feebly lifted his sword to parry the strikes, unable to break the assault or telegraph it. With a frustrated cry, the captain brought his sword up with a quick yank, vaulting Locke off his feet for more than a second to recover. Locke stumbled, arms waving backward wildly, until his back smashed into the ground and the captain stood above him with a hateful snarl.

He offered the man a weak smile. “I don’t suppose we could talk about this?” his answer was a thrust, but before the captain’s sword could touch him, the Moogle crashed into him and took him to the floor in a loud struggle. He took the moment to reclaim his feet to the ground and recover his discarded dagger, turning just in time to see the captain throw the Moogle off of him.

Thick gouges and bite marks scarred the entirety of his face, bleeding profusely. The captain swore, wiped at his face and then lifted his sword toward Locke with a trembling hand. “You let these filthy—” he cut himself off by gesturing to the Moogle, who had, to Locke’s amazement, begun to be surrounded by a circle of Moogles. “—mongrels fight your battles, Cole?”

Locke’s fingers, stiff still from the blasted cold, tightened around his dagger as he lifted it to point at the captain. “A good man doesn’t fight his battles alone.”

The captain spat at his feet. “You still like to pretend, I see. You aren’t even a decent man, to allow that Imperial to go free after what she has done.”

Locke watched him for a moment before relaxing and sheathing his dagger. “I am good enough not to let this be a slaughter. Walk away with your men, captain. I won’t let you have her and neither will the Moogles.” _apparently_ , he wanted to add.

The captain glanced around at the disgraceful collection of men scattered about in gentle moans and tumbling steps with a disgusted expression. “This isn’t the end of this, thief, you know it.”

Locke smiled at the man. “That’s good...the endings of stories are always so boring.” The captain watched him for a moment, turning his eyes to the girl behind him for a split second, before helping a man to his right to his feet. The Moogles formed a circle before Locke then, readied to defend if the Narshen guards decided to attack again, until each and every one of the men went out the way they had come.

Locke hurried back to the girl, digging her out of the dirt with quicker motions. Two Moogles joined him, faster with their claws and watching the girl’s expression attentively. Finally she was free and Locke lifted her by the shoulders to lie her against his knee.

Her clothes were, he saw without shock, Imperial. They were covered in dirt and blood, of which he could tell most was not her own. Though closer inspection after he laid her down revealed deep gashes in her legs and abdomen, as well as the injuries she sustained from the fall. The others, he assumed, came from before, when she raided the town.

One of the Moogles with a bright yellow tuft leaned down to touch her cheeks with a furry little finger. The girl moaned in pain but offered no other sound or movement. The Moogle reached to repeat itself but Locke snapped its hand up. “Don’t, she’s hurt, can’t you see that?” The Moogle tore its arm away with an angry flutter of its wings and snapped at him like a dog. “Well, can’t you? Don’t poke at her, for the love of God.”

The Moogle with the spear came up to them and knelt to peer at her face. “Kupo,” it said, laying a hand on the girl’s forehead. Locke looked up to meet the creature’s eyes and saw, he thought, worry and understanding in them.

_Do they know her?_

The Moogle looked to another with a blue tuft and gestured for something. A moment later the blue one came up with a small bottle. It was made like no other he had seen when he accepted it and turned it over. It was more square than most, and as blue as sapphires. He wasn’t sure what it was, and if he should give it to the girl as the Moogle with the spear was indicating. No one has ever had this much interaction with the secretive and isolated Moogles before. Most believed they were barely even intelligent, barely even more than a monster to be put down, but here they stood. Armed like man, speaking a language of their own and carrying around potions. They even had the ability to perceive the girl was in need of help. That was something he only noticed in humans.

 _I suppose they wouldn’t do her any harm after helping_ , he thought, watching the blue-green eyes of the spear wielding Moogle for any indication of menace. The girl’s hoarse cry tore his attention away and his will to help over his misplaced worry. He popped the cork and lifted her head up to help the liquid down her throat.

She protested weakly but gave in half way through, body relaxing and breathing evening out. The Moogle with the yellow tuft gave what Locke thought was a smile and jumped in place. “Hao kawau’i naa!”

“Hai, kupo!” the blue one shouted back with a flutter of its wings and Locke thought it sounded awfully girly.

The one with the spear made a laughing noise, “Mahao oni, sai kapúka?” it was directing Locke, but he had no idea what to say.

He looked down at the girl for a moment and then said, “It worked...I think.”

“Kupo!” they all shouted happily, fluttering their wings and shaking their antennas. The Spear Moogle looked at him again and offered his little paw. “Hona alona’i, ohola.”

Unsure of what to do, Locke accepted the hand and gasped when the Moogle leaned over to bite his hand. He pulled his hand away with a yelp and examined the two puncture marks along the webbing of his thumb. The marks weren’t deep and only superficially bled, but they did sting some. “What was that for?” he demanded, looking up to see that the collection of Moogles had vanished without a sound or trace. Sitting in a bundle beside the girl, were more of the bottles and a few things wrapped in odd looking leaves.

He reached for the bag, stuffed it into his pack and then lifted the girl. He hesitated a moment when he felt how light she was but pressed on north, from where the Moogles had come from. The trail was short and marked with little rock towers, of which Locke was certain the Moogles had created, that led out into a wide ledge into the snow storm. He was just outside the Narshe gates and could see the destruction the girl and her party had brought upon the town. A sense of uneasiness filled him as he gazed upon the burning homes, broken gates and littered bodies. He looked at the woman in his arms again, wondering just how dangerous she was, and saw only the expression of a girl, and not the ‘ _Imperial witch_ ’ the captain had called her, or the townsfolk who had witnessed the horrors.

Her frailness exposed a part of him he thought he had abandoned long ago and he knew he couldn’t just leave her. He set off down the ledge carefully, holding her closer to him and hoping it was enough warmth to keep her alive.

It took him only an hour to make camp outside the mining city, south enough to disappear into the forests and mountain scape, but close enough to see the city immersed in firelight. He laid the girl down in a clearing and dug snow off the bare ground with his hands. He did his best to ignore the stiffness of his joints or how he could barely feel his hands, telling himself that if he hurried he could start a fire and be alright.

Once he cleared the snow, he brought the girl over and sat her down, took off his leather jacket and laid it over her so that he could go to work. Finding wood proved more difficult than he first imagined; most of what he found was damp or frozen, others too few in quantity to make a worthy fire. He finally found some logs he over turned for drier substance underneath, and ripped pieces of wood from the insides of broken trees. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it would do for now.

When he got back to the clearing the girl had moved in her sleep, knocking the jacket off. He threw the wood down and ran over to check her. “Damn it,” he growled, scared by how cold she was. He reached over for the jacket again, covered her and then desperately started on the fire. He broke several sticks before he got a flame to take but as soon as the light surrounded them and the warmth made it pleasant enough to relax, he carefully maneuvered the girl closer to the flames and tucked the jacket around her.

Maybe something in his pack could help. He tossed it off his shoulder and dug through it. He had all sorts of things; potions, antidotes, dried meat, apples, a flute, spare bandanas and a pouch of coins, and not much of it. He grabbed up the bandanas and set them aside before he went through the Moogle’s bag. At least between his stash and that the Moogles left him, they had plenty of potions. When he uncovered the leaf wrapped objects, he realized it was some sort of food. It smelled sweet, but looked ghastly the way they were rolled up and pale gray.

 _Probably not something a human could even eat_ , he thought, setting it aside. He reached for a potion, popped the cork and then smeared some of its liquid onto a spare bandana. He knelt over the girl next, his ears and cheeks pinking at what he knew he had to do. The most serious wounds she had that he could see was on her abdomen and the gash on the back of her head from the fall. He lifted her head and wrapped the bandana around her head so that the moist part touched the wound and then tied a tiny knot.

“Hopefully that will be enough,” he whispered, setting her head back down gently. She grimaced inaudibly but remained unconscious. Next he went for her shirt. He rolled it up her stomach and sucked in a sharp breath at what he saw.

 _Miner rats_ , he thought, staring in horror at the bite mark on the left side of her abdomen, swollen profusely and as red as an apple, and still bleeding. The miner rats had jaws of small dogs and often killed the people they bit because of the diseases they carried. It looked like it hadn’t gotten too far for her just yet, so Locke poured the last of the open potion on the wound and then tied around bandana around it. He couldn’t do anything for the older scars littered across her body that he found, so he replaced her shirt and then went to feed the fire some more of his stock pile.

He ate an apple while he warmed and thought. They were around two hundred miles north of Figaro, and then another two hundred from South Figaro and moreso for the resistance’s hideout. If the girl remained unconscious the journey would be near impossible, and wouldn’t bode well for her health. He had seen enough people succumb to death from falls or trauma to the head through their sleep, while others... he shook his head to dispel the memory itching to come back to him.

 _Think in the now, not in the past_ , he told himself angrily, watching the girl’s expression contort in several kinds of pain, some he knew well. He had no doubts she was suffering from nightmares, but what could he do to help her from it? All he could do was try to help her survive her injuries, and hope for the best. _Whatever is to come, this girl better be worth all this trouble_.

The light of early morning, orange and pale, brought him the strength and warmth to gather more wood. It was easier in the returning light to gather drier timber and so he returned with a hefty armful of stock. It was still too dark to start or to try and wake the girl, so he went out to hunt, returning with three rabbits only when the sun rose over the canopy.

He tossed the rabbits by the spot he had been sitting at and turned to feed the fire when his eyes widened at what he saw of the girl—mint green hair! Not blond or platinum like it seemed in the firelight the previous night, or by torch in the cave, but green! He gaped like a frightened child and slowly walked over as if he believed his eyes to be tricking him.

 _What the hell_ , he knelt to pick a strand of her hair up. _It certainly is green...but...but how is that even possible?_ He dropped her hair and stood to back away to his rabbits. _Whatever, it makes no difference. I just got to get her to Figaro and be done with it._ He started to skin the rabbits, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to peak at the girl, wondering if she stirred any.

But after he skinned the rabbits and cooked the meat, he tried to wake the girl, but she did not stir. She was warmer than before, her flesh not so pale too, but she was unresponsive. He decided to give her another potion, gentling messaging her throat to help it go down. She made a face but offered no complaint, physical or verbal.

As the hours rolled on and he kept a fearful watch on the direction of Narshe for pursuing guards, she did not wake. Several hours later into mid-afternoon she had a fit in her sleep, moaning something so quietly under her breath that Locke couldn’t make it out, but he swore he heard a plea to ‘ _leave_ _me_ _alone_ ’ a few times. He watched her intensively, waiting for signs of sever distress he needed to intercept, but her moans and cries grew quiet around the setting of the sun. And by that time he had gone hunting again, scoring another set of rabbits and skinning them.

When she finally broke from her unconsciousness, he was cooking the last of the game as he chewed on some meat. Her voice had startled him because it had interrupted his thoughts and peace with an entirely unexpected childlike fear.

“Where...where am I?”

He looked up and saw her leaning on an elbow, staring wide eyed at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave Locke this kind of catch phrase to use. I thought it would be pretty cute for him, and make him more carefree/spirited. Maybe you guys will dig it, too. And the language the Moogles are speaking is a very shallow conlang. It'll be expanded on sometime later, but probably not given a large amount of depth, as for the moment I do not see myself using the language too much. It is based on the Hawaiian language. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading once again! If you have anything to say, please leave it as a review or even pm me if you'd like. I've love to read what you have to say!
> 
> Moogle Language:  
> kupo = It is sort of like an interjection like "doh!" or "ya know". Really it is just a way Moogles end their sentences to get it a bit of their personality.  
> Aonaku naa = "Hurry up"  
> Hao kawau'i naa = "She's healed up!"  
> Hai = Okay, fine, alright; confirmation interjection  
> Maho oni sai úka? = "Do you need more?"  
> Hona alona'i, ohola= "Goodbye for now, friend."
> 
> (Syntax, morphology etc etc has not been managed and implemented yet. It is all subject to be changed!)


	6. Terra

_Chapter V_

_Gaia_

Terra

She was staring at him with pale lavender eyes, encircled with black rings and lost in a sea of confusion and fear. The cut on her cheek looked even more painful now that she was awake, in which Locke berated himself for not treating it sooner. She looked beyond weak in her expression, but it was how she carried herself on her elbow that told him she was in worse shape than he thought. Her breathing seemed far more relaxed than what it was when she was asleep though, and he was thankful.

Locke lifted a hand, hoping it would calm her. “I was beginning to wonder if you would even wake up...” her eyes followed his hands frightfully, so as he got off his rocky seat he tried to be as cautious as he could manage. “I don’t mean you any harm, kiddo.”

She blinked at him, trying to bat back tears and failing at it. “Where am I?” she spared a second to look around. “Where...where is...” the words seemed to escape her, but he was pretty sure he knew who she was going to ask about.

“The old man that helped you?” she looked at him with hopeful eyes. “His name is Arvis, and a man at his age couldn’t really afford wandering about in the cold,” he explained, watching her eyes carefully. “But if I can get you out of Narshe, then I can also get you to safety. We just have to—”

“You...you saved me?” he wasn’t sure how to reply. “He said he would come find me.” she muttered.

“It wasn’t just me, exactly,” he mumbled. He tried to convince himself to tell her about the Moogles, but how would he even start? This girl didn’t seem too straight in the head at the moment, and talk of mysterious little creatures would probably confuse her even further, but yet there was a deep need in her eyes to know—to understand—what had happened that he could not deny. “Your thanks should be saved for the Moogles, is all. They helped me fight off the Narshen guards and get you to safety.”

She seemed to accept his explanation if only because she didn’t seem to know what to say to it. Instead she groaned, swayed and lifted a hand to her head. “I can’t remember a thing...” she cried, tears rolling down her dirty cheeks. She was trembling as she pressed her eyes shut, to fight back pain.

A rush of pity and aching memories swarmed him. He felt sick to his stomach watching her cry. Memories of his past tried to boil to the surface but he shoved them away. He looked at her with inquisitive eyes, “You lost your memory?”

She opened her eyes but did not look at him, body still trembling. “The old man...he...he said it would come back to me.” Locke looked away with a shake of his head, disgust for the Empire building anew in him. That was why she wanted to know what had happened.

“So, you’ve got amnesia...” His journey would not stop at Figaro, it seemed. “Don’t worry,” she looked at him with round eyes. “I won’t leave your side until your memories return to you.” The look in her eyes made him smile and made him chuckle. He tossed her an apple, which landed with a ‘thump’ at her thighs.

“...why?”

“I’m not about to abandon someone just because they lost their memory.” he gestured toward the apple at her side. She picked it up with a frown. “I’ll keep you safe...I promise.” She rolled the apple around in her hands for a moment as he ate quietly, clearly hesitate about something she wasn’t going to mention. It took him a minute to guess what that was exactly. “Do you remember your name, at least?”

That question lit her up with joy. A smile as bright as one could get crept across her face and she nodded rather vigorously, though that made her squint her eyes and grimace. “Terra...my name is Terra.”

He smiled and popped another slice of apple into his mouth. “Nice to meet you Terra...my name is Locke.” she was still rolling around the apple, eyes locked onto its red sheen with such intensity he wondered what it was she was thinking. “You should eat...it will help with your recovery.”

She did not bother to speak, instead she bit into the apple and ate quietly. He had her eat some meat as well, and take another potion. It startled Locke to see just how trusting she was when she took the food and potion without even checking it.

 _Perhaps Arvis was right_ , he thought as he watched her for a moment by his spot, adverting his eyes just when she looked up at him. _She’s going to need to be watched very carefully._ He tossed his pack off his back, knowing that she was watching him with curious eyes, and dug through it for a rolled up piece of paper, his map. “How much do you remember, Terra?” he glanced up quickly, catching her startled expression, before it calmed.

“Not...not much.” It was clearly a lie, but he couldn't figure out the reason she felt the need to lie for.

“Well I’ll start with some basics you need to know for now. We just left Narshe,” he lifted a hand to point towards the direction behind her and she half turned to follow his finger. “And we’re heading to Figaro, in the desert.” he rolled the piece of paper out in the dirt before her and beside the fire, so that they could see easier. He jabbed a finger at a little dot south-west of them. “And that there is our destination. We’re about two thousand kilometers away.” he traced a finger from a spot near Narshe down to the desert’s dot. “If we are patient and walk at least ten miles a day, we can make it to Figaro in a half a month, a full month if we are leisure about it.” when he looked up he saw her staring at the map with wide eyes. “Understand?”

“Figaro...” her eye brows arched in remembrance as she tasted the word, and then it slid away, lost in a sea of confusion. “But why?”

“Why?” he repeated, crossing his arms. “Hmm, well, like I told you earlier; Arvis asked me to get you to safety and Figaro will provide you with just that. They hate the Empire.”

“Then...then why am I going there?” her eyes lit with gentle tears. “I...those men said I was in the Empire.”

“We can settle that later,” he said with a small smile. She opened her mouth to talk but then shut it, instead nodding. “How is your head, by the way? Can you walk?”

“My head?” she asked, lifting a hand to it and for the first time since waking, realizing she had been bandaged up. She gingerly prodded the back of her head and grimaced.

“Not okay, I guess,” he sighed.

“I...I can walk,” she said and to prove it, she struggled to her feet. He rose quickly to catch her when her body nearly dropped, but paused as she stood straight, knees buckling. “I can walk.”

“Alright, alright, you can walk,” he muttered, gesturing back to the ground. “Now show me you can sit back down and stay there until you are healed.” She blanched but did so without complaint. “I’ll get you another potion tonight, and then again tomorrow. It should have you up in no time.”

“Potion?”

“Oh, this,” he retrieved one of the jars. “It is a curative, from the Moogles. It is a lot stronger than what I’m used to using, actually,” he glanced down at the liquid, contemplating how quickly it seemed to heal Terra. He could feel her pale purple eyes staring after him so he put the rest of them back and said. “Never mind that...you should be resting and I,” he got to his feet and clapped his hands together to free himself from dirt. “should be patrolling for Narshen guards.” he tossed her a potion and she sat up quickly, swaying.

“They are here?” her eyes searched the darkening forestry around them fearfully.

“No,” he answered and she sat back down. “But they could be, so just lie back and rest.” he laid a few more apples and rabbit meat by her and went for the woods.

He started his patrol through the woods surrounding the campsite. He was pleased to find no evidence of anyone near by his second hour so he returned. Terra was asleep, curled closer by the fire than where he had left her. The potion he had given her was emptied and sitting beside her head. Her expression was hard and pained in the coil of nightmares, but he knew sleep was better for her than nothing, so he left her be and slouched down against his little rock to close his eyes.

The next time his eyes opened it was dawn, and the fire was nearly out. Terra was staring intensely at the fire, its glow making her pale purple eyes into a wondrous new shade that seemed to sparkle themselves. But there was an emptiness to her eyes that startled him out of his wit. It looked as if she had abandoned herself to the fire itself.

He sat up, shuffling stone and grass below him as he did so, which startled her out of her trance. Her eyes sought him out quickly and that’s when he noticed the injuries she had sustained were healed entirely, leaving behind scars. He blinked stupidly at her for a moment. Were the Moogles’ potions really that powerful? He gulped back a sudden question he was sure would only confuse her and smiled at her.

“I take it you are feeling better this morning?”

“I can walk,” she muttered, almost shortly, before adverting her eyes. He rubbed his neck nervously, contemplating how to proceed if, for some reason, she was not feeling well enough to talk.

“So...did you remember anything?” she looked at him with such an expecting glance that he had to explain. “It just looked like you were a thousand miles away.” her lingering glance made him ramble on. “You know....it was like your head was stuck in the clouds?”

That made her touch her head and look up to the clouds with a puzzled frown. “My head isn’t in the clouds.”

He burst out laughing. “That wasn’t literal, Terra.”

She looked back at him with a blank expression, almost annoyed. “....well I didn’t remember anything.”

“Oh,” he said, disappointed. The expression he had seen...he thought maybe something came back to her, even if it were insignificant. A memory, even simple, was better than none. He tried to keep his eyes off of her so that she did not feel pressured or bothered by her failure to remember anything, but couldn't for too long. He sighed. “That's understandable.You need more time to recovery.It will be soon, I'm sure.”

He smiled some when she looked at him with a very thankful expression. It was so strange. He had never seen such gratitude in someone before, it was so earnest. It was like staring at a blank piece of paper while it was written on for the very first time with the most delicate of authors; innocent and complete at the same time. Whether or not he actually meant it, her gratitude was there.

Realizing suddenly that he was staring at her rather dumbly, he laughed brightly and reached for his waterskin. “If you are well enough to walk, we should move out, before anyone from Narshe gets the idea in their head to try and capture us. I'd rather avoid the Narshen death-hounds if I can.”

That frightened her, and he felt shameful for mentioning it. “Death-hounds?”

He gestured with his hands how big the creatures are. “Some sort of sick version of a dog, most believe. They aren't so bad that the name fits, though. You don't need to worry either way...I'll get you far away from them and Narshe.” Again that grateful look came back but she did not offer any words as he offered her his waterskin. “Drink up and I'll put out the fire.” he turned to go about his business. He kicked dirt and snow onto the fire until it finally went out and then went to recover his things. When he finished, he was stopped by his new companion.

She spoke softly, as if unsure of the words themselves but also of her voice. “...where are we going again?”

He looked at her as he put his pack on. He knew she was too lost in thought to have been really paying attention to his explanations, or perhaps she wasn't as well as he thought. Amnesia was a tricky thing. “South, to a desert. We'll arrive at a castle sometime later, where you will meet a key figure in the resistance.”

She blinked at him, trying to process his words. “Resistance?”

He laughed but not so happily, more nervously. “I would just make a mock of explaining it to you...when we get to Figaro—”

“...the castle.” she said midway in, still uncertain, and he nodded, continuing on.

“—it will be explained by someone far more proper of the job. And from there...well. One day at a time, I say.” she held out the waterskin then, and for a moment he had forgotten about it. He shook his head and closed her small hand over it. “Keep that. I have a spare. We'll come across a stream further south that you can refill on.”

She looked at the waterskin and mumbled something under her breath he couldn't quite hear. She then held it close to her heart, as if it were some precious memento, and looked around their little campsite. “...which way is ‘south’?”

He let out a soft sigh. He could tell there was going to be a lot she forgot, that would need to be explained to her. It stung him to realize just how much she lost, and would probably never get back. He lifted a hand to point in the right direction. Her eyes followed his finger quickly with a brightening smile, as if remembering. He found her enthusiasm contagious. “So...shall we start?”

••••••••••••

They went onward into their journey for the remainder of the day, until the sky darkened into a warm orange and the chill of the night began to settle upon the land. Locke had noticed instantly how the cold seemed to bother his new traveling partner more than it did for him and had offered her whatever he could spare himself, though it was not much itself and did little to stave off the cold until they could settle for the day.

She hardly spoke during their walk, but when she did it was to ask questions about things they saw, things he said or even did. She accepted everything he said without question and with a charming smile. She was content with just knowing what she might have never known or have forgotten that Locke couldn't bring himself to warn her that there were things called 'lies' or 'misinformation'. Not yet, at least. A part of him hoped she already knew and was just too trusting of him personally.

Thankfully the day was closing in and her questions ended, and soon enough they both wished for a break. His knees still hurt from the jump he made in the caves—something he wouldn't, of course, mention to her—so he quickly found them a spot to camp out for the night.

He liked to think he moved quickly, but when he asked her for help in finding dry wood, he had soon found out in comparison to Imperial standards and training methods, he was but a snail. When he got back he found a large stock of perfect firewood with Terra standing rather stiffly beside it, watching his expression carefully.

“I’m finished,” she chirped, a bright smile on her dirty face.

He was astonished and felt cheap for the meager amount he had collected in his hour of searching, but he didn't wish to deflate her, so he tossed his in and laughed. “Where did you go hunting for this wood? Nikeah?”

Her brows furrowed. “No. In the woods.”

She took so much so literally. “Well, this is far more than we will ever need. I’m afraid we’ve stripped the forest clean now.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, almost sadly, eyes watching the pile. “Should I put it back?”

“What? No, no, of course not,” he said. “It was a joke. You did great, really. Now...where to settle down? Ah, how about right here?” he hurried to a flatter piece of the clearing and spread his arms out wide. “There isn’t a lot of snow to deal with, either.” as he began to remove the snow, Terra stopped him.

“Locke?” he looked up at her. “What is a ‘joke’?”

He was thrown by the question for a moment, before he laughed. “Well...” how could he begin? “It is something said or done to get someone to laugh or feel good. It could be something made up or about something real.”

“I don't understand.” her brows furrowed. “If it makes someone laugh, it is a joke?”

“Well...no, not exactly. It has to be intended as one, too, I guess.” he guessed she was asking so much for the same reasons for everything else, so he said, “Don't worry. You'll remember it soon, or get the hang of it.”

After a quiet meal, Locke gave her another potion, just to be sure she would be okay, and took the night's watch. She had protested him quite strongly into also participating in so he could sleep, but after a promise that he did it all the time, she was asleep by the fire. He stretched out along the fire, head propped on his arms, and watched the night sky. It was strange being worried for once in so long for someone other than himself, yet it was also very peaceful.

••••••••••••

In the morning they were up earlier than Locke would have preferred. The rest was nice for the ache in his knees, and he would have liked an hour or two more to sleep in for the long journey ahead, but gave in when his stomach protested. He drew a pot of water over the fire and began a simple broth for their meal.

Terra woke sometime in due to the smell and shivered near the fire as she waited, thinking yet again. Once they were through, they gathered their things up again and set out. Terra was happy to take up whatever tasks he had if only to learn, but he was sure to be easy with her, unsure if he should be pressuring her body so soon, but she went through the tasks as if they were nothing. Locke decided it was better she was preoccupied than aware of her lack of memories, so he let her continue on with helping and asking questions on about everything they saw or did.

And in the span of a fortnight, Terra had seen so many colors, trees, flowers, birds and animals that she wondered how she would ever remember it all. Though thinking about how to view it, new or old, often made her head hurt she decided a few days after that she would say it was her first time. At least until her memories returned, or rather more of the core memories. Which sometimes when Locke explained something to her, a fog lifted in her head and she recalled what it was, other times she was left stumped, even after an explanation.

She found her frustrations growing with how much she couldn't recall, or on what she could because she thought they were worthless memories. Locke assured her several times over that all things she remembered were precious, and that made her feel a little better. Jokes though...whatever they were, she was struggling to understand them. Locke often made them, or told her times were he 'played' jokes on others. He would burst out laughing at whatever it was he had said, but she would just stare at him.

“Nothing?” he said to her one morning after telling a humorous story, displeased one way or another that she had not replied with laughter. “That makes it challenging.” She didn't bother to ask to explain his jokes, and she didn't know the words to say she was regretful for not understanding, for her failures, so she just let the silence go on until the subject was changed. Thankfully for her it wasn't too long until that actually happened.

In between his attempts to teach something or his questions and jokes, they had to tread forward carefully around strangers and scouts from Narshe, who were returning from someplace they couldn't be sure of and of course the occasional Imperial patrol—which scared her more than the Narshen scouts. She was one of them and if she hadn't lost her memory, she would probably walking with them and not the kind man she was with now, if not dead. That thought startled her and she was quiet the entire first day they had happened upon the Imperials.

Beyond the people they snuck around, they were faced with the abundant problem of monsters, some easy to deal with by tossing sticks or stones, others Locke made nasty comments about and had them steer clear of as much as possible. Even then though they sometimes were caught off guard by one or another.

The first time it happened she was waiting in a small patch of forestry for him to return from scouting the small valley ahead of them. She was thinking on the events that had transpired, and the things she had learned, when a hunched figure stumbled out of the bushes in a quick limping pace toward her. She fell off the stump she had been sitting on and into the snow, barely able to rip her sword from her scabbard before the creature neared her.

She was on her feet quicker than she thought she could ever manage and was batting it off with breathless swings, begging it to go before she had to hurt it. It was burdened in rags and had large, black eyes that looked unwilling to go unless it got what it wanted, with only three fingers on each hand.

It leapt at her, gurgling, and she had whacked it hard with her sword as if it were a hammer. It was more than enough to kill it and when Locke came back to see it, he told her to keep up the good work. Staring at the thing's body, she didn't feel like it was good work.

Eventually though through their troubles with the monsters, they were clear to cross the valley that led out toward the desert. She was a little ruffled that she couldn't see the desert the morning they arrived at the end of the valley, and then felt strange for not knowing if the images in her head was even a desert. Did it look like how she thought it did? Could the memories she still possess be trusted? For all she knew, the large swath of green and bumpy things in the distance was a desert instead of the sea of yellow she was seeing in her mind's eye. She sighed as she descended a slope with Locke, something he did not miss. He looked back at her and asked what was wrong.

What was wrong? So much, but where could she start? Even that seemed too difficult for her. How could she tell him the things she knew and the things she didn't know bothered her and that knowing which was which would take her so long to find and then explain? And what could he even do to help?

Instead she asked if they were close to the desert and he pointed ahead, towards the bumpy things in the distance. “We're nearer than I thought we'd by now. See those bumps? That's the Highlands, which is a few days or so's walk away from the desert if we're quick enough.”

Terra looked again and a second later she realized they were mountains and so far away that they seemed like hills rather than what they were. If the mountains themselves were just a few days away from their destination, how far was the distance they had to walk to get to the mountains? She could only guess looking at the vastness between that it was not going to be met by a week's work of walking...and she really didn't want to walk anymore. Her legs hurt and her head still burned, which she wasn't even sure was from her fall or not.

How was Locke managing it so well? She looked him over and couldn't really say he was very well muscled or fit, but she supposed he could from what she couldn’t see. Her puzzlement caught his attention simply for the fact that she unintentionally slowed. He asked her if she had something else to ask, and she did but she suspected asking how he managed his travels was something better thought than said.

So they continued on. It took half of the day to trek down the valley's steep slopes towards the vast open ahead of them, and by then the sky was dark in the distance with ominous clouds. A part of Terra knew what it was, a storm, but the other part couldn't ever remember experiencing it, so she looked forward to it with a small smile.

When they arrived at flatter ground, the wind was harsh and wickedly warm, which alarmed the kind traveler so much that she second guessed her interest in the storm. He took a moment to survey the sky nervously before he looked at her and told her that they needed a place out of the open, out of the brunt of the storm. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

But Terra soon realized as they huddled together under a stretch of a giant sycamore that it could be terribly bad. The rain was a roar itself in comparison to the hazardous wind, but the worst part of it was the lightning that lit up the sky and revealed the forest around them in monstrous displays. It all reminded her of the horrible metallic room in her dreams, where the man with the tattoo was holding her captive and of the sounds and smells, but mostly of the fear.

And so she decided that night as the rain drenched them that she would never like storms.

Sometime in the morning, an hour or so after the storm finally broke, she had fallen asleep against the tough bark of the tree with legs huddled up against her and head leaning against her bony knees.

Her dreams were full of the tattooed man, some things from the previous dreams while others were new to her. So much of them would be different, but there was always one thing that didn't seem to change; the man's anger toward her. Eyes bright, voice screaming, feet lashing out at her, hands as cold as ice, warnings against failure, threats of much worse.

_'My little toy,' his voice whispered into her ear. 'My little magic user.'_

She startled awake at Locke's touch and looked up at him in the morning light, trembling. His soft gray eyes were inspecting her as he held out a hand for her. “Are you okay?”

She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead before accepting his hand to get to her feet. “I'm...I'm fine.” he didn't seem to believe her, but to her surprise he did not press her on it.

“We will have to be careful from now on,” he explained. “The storm most likely left our path difficult to traverse as the Bellwater river could very well be flooded further south. We'll have to go around at that point, but it shouldn't be too out of the way. Afterward we'll stop for a bit to eat.” at her silence, he paused. “Are you sure you are okay?”

Were her dreams memories? Memories that Locke and Arvis promised would return? Why did those that come back have to be so terrifying? Unsure she wanted to share what she was remembering, she nodded. “I'm sure.” He smiled and turned toward the field they had escaped the other day.

Outside of the relative safety of the forest, they could see that the plain had been trampled by the wind and pools as deep as her knees had been left to riddle their path, while trees had been broken at their base or were struck by lighting. She observed the scenery with both curiosity and fear. Locke was wise to get them out of the open, and she was thankful. Where would she be without him?

She asked if all storms were so powerful. The answer wasn't very comforting, so Locke tried to keep her mind off the destruction with explanations of what they encountered, even if it were about monsters, and for a long while it worked. “...now with monsters that poison it is wise to avoid direct contact as much as possible. In the event that you are hit and feel queasy, as that's how it starts, it is usually safe to assume that an antidote is also possible to create or even buy. I've come across a lot of creatures so I know a great deal of cures to make by hand, but you should never be so careless as to travel unprepared.”

She looked at him, very much confused. “Why don't people just take care of the monsters?”

“It is impossible. We don't even know how they came to be, so any plans of eradication ends there. We just have to deal with it.” She looked out toward the field ahead of them and the looming mountains with a frown. What kind of life was that? It seemed so bleak to her. Locke lifted a finger with a grin. “Now, what species of plant is best to collect for an antidote to Aepyornis poison?”

She chewed her bottom lip in concentration. He had mentioned it, she was sure of it, but he used so many words so fast that she couldn't remember or even understand that it got lost amongst them. Her head started to hurt, as if fire tickled up her spine to the inside of her mind, and then she remembered. “Altroot and Oplo leaves.”

“Good! Now how do you prepare it?” Terra sighed. She found his quizzes fun at first, but after several hours of them and getting most of them wrong, she was only irritated by them.

By the end of the day they had reached the Bellwater river. It had flooded just as Locke thought it would and now blocked a large chunk of their path in steep water. At that Locke had muttered words that made him turn to her and say 'don't repeat that!' before deciding that they needed to turn back and go north-west first. Terra did not want to walk so far back, so she asked why they didn't just cross the water.

“Can you even swim?”

She assumed she could. “I think so...” They decided to test their chances. Locke went first, finding a shallower part near the western most portion of the flood. He slipped several times and went head first under water before he declared he found a relatively easy path to follow. Terra followed quickly and made sure her feet were firmly planted on the ground beneath her before moving onward.

Fish of all kinds swam by her, nibbling at her trousers or fingers. She so fascinated by them that she hadn't seen Locke turning off the rather straight path he had set for her. She reached outward to touch a large green fish with whiskers and smiled as it took a hold of her index finger. “Locke, what kind of fish is this—” she hadn't been paying attention and stepped off her footing. Her body sunk deep underwater and she panicked for half a moment before resurfacing with a gasp.

As she took several deep breaths, mostly to calm herself down, Locke laughed. “At least we know you can swim now, kiddo.” he came over to help her up to higher ground. Terra was shivering and her hair was plastered to her face, and was now very annoyed. “Don't worry, only a little longer and we're good.” he reached over to steady her. “Just be more careful, okay?”

The length they crossed seemed unreal to Terra when they finally reached a sea of lush grass. She smirked at the water triumphantly. Yet another new experience she never wanted to forget. If only she could do something to make sure that wouldn't happen...

Locke swore, diverting her attention away from the river. She watched him take one boot off at a time to dump water out of them and smiled when a little fish plopped out. “Ugly things...”

“I think they are cute,” she whispered, kneeling to pick it up and gently place it in the water.

“That's because you're a _woman_ ,” he said. “They find all sorts of weird things cute.” She wasn't really sure how to take that comment. She wasn't sure what women did, or men for that matter. She let it go as fact. “Now let's find someplace dry to rest and eat. I’m starved!” When he located a higher part of ground, damp but not soaked, he set up a stock of wood for the fire and asked if she knew how to start one. Immediately her thoughts went back to the mines and what she had done. She was sure that if she could get it to work, that would help, but she wasn't sure of showing him so she just shook her head.

 _I just wish I could remember_ , she thought as she watched him go through a quick explanation of how to start a fire with a few sticks and tinder. _Maybe I never knew this._ She smiled when flames broke out across the tinder. It looked a lot easier than what she was trying to do in the caves, and didn't seem to take so much out of him. “Can I try?”

He looked like he would say no, but quickly handed them over. “Sure...just be careful.”

It took her several tries before it worked. “I did it!” perhaps it would be easier than she thought to catch up to what he knew, or what she should know.

“Good work, kiddo.” he tossed the new tinder into the old fire. “Now what do you say we eat and get some rest? I'm dog tired.”

“Okay,” she said, quite happily, still staring at the beauty of the fire. Locke heated some of their leftover meat and made a very simple broth out of some plants he went out to gather before the last of the light left them. To Terra it smelled a lot like the stew Arvis had cooked for her, which made her stomach growl.

He chuckled as he stirred the chunks of meat around the broth. “I guess that means you're hungry, eh? Say, Terra...” she looked at him, waiting. “...your hair? I mean I meant to ask earlier but...” She blinked at him. “I just...nothing. Forget I said anything.” he poured some stew into a wooden cup he took out of his travel bag and handed it to her. “Let's just get some rest.”

They ate quietly over the fire until the sky turned dark and the stars littered the sky in a dazzling display. It was clear and crisp, but the wind had lessened and gave them a reprieve to enjoy the time they had been given. In the hours before he was to take watch and she to sleep, Locke laid a good measure away from her and told her of all the constellations and their origins, and who discovered them and named them, and which were his favorites.

First he showed her the Lonely Few, three archers, and then the Lady, a woman holding a jar and then possibly the most known, the Dragon, that was stationed against a background of pale blue and milky white. To Locke the girl seemed grateful to learn such things, and it was enough to encourage him to keep going, from the constellations to the moons and the sun, and onward. It was past midnight when she dosed off quietly by the fire and he set off to ensure their safety. When it was finally time for him to lie and get a moment's rest, he closed his eyes with a tired sigh and thought of songs his mother sung him.

The morning greeted them with an unbearably cold drift from the north-western mountains. Locke could scarcely move away from the fire, but when Terra presented him with a request to find a river, he could not deny her. He stamped out the fire, regretfully, and led her east, up a small bump of hills and down the other side to a small creek running prettily between a collection of trees.

A deer scattered at sight, nervously kicking at the air as it went. Terra had run ahead, as if meaning to give chase, but stopped short at their side of the creek. When Locke caught up, she was staring at the forestry the deer had run to with awe struck eyes. She watched for a long moment before wistfully sighing and kneeling to refill her waterskin. Locke could feel there was something she was wishing to expression just by the look in her eyes but decided against pressing her. If she were ready to talk, she would have done it in the first place. It would be a long day anyhow, with the next water source hours and hours ahead, so he followed suit. He would have to make sure she knew that their water would have to be sparing used. He tied his bota bag to his belt and lifted his head to see if she were done and paused at what he saw.

Terra was staring at her reflection as if it were truly the first time she was seeing herself. She lifted a hand to her hair, which was wind blown and rather knotty, with unsure hesitance. She brushed fingers over her hair and then through it, to straighten in, and he smiled. He hadn't seen her do something so womanly yet. She was remembering faster than she realized. When she finished taming the cascading green locks she cleaned her face and hands with the icy water and went to wait by the dead fireplace. He rejoined her half an hour later after he shaved his stubble and pissed far enough away that she couldn't possibly accidentally wander upon him.

“Alright kiddo,” he dusted his hands together after ascending the hill. “Let's get going. We're so close that I can already feel the sand in my boots.”

Terra adjusted her belt and scabbard placement before following him down the hill towards the highlands in the distance. Locke wondered if she even knew how to use her sword. He had seen her hack and slash at a monster like a mad woman—no skill whatsoever—but he suspected that the Empire had not given her one unless she knew, at one point, how to wield it, particularly with deadly accuracy and skill.

He blindly reached for his twin daggers and sighed in relief that they were still tangling from his belt at his hips. He hoped it never came to the girl having to defend herself with anything, especially another human, but he knew that was just naïve. The Narshe would be looking for her and maybe even the Empire if they cared enough to. With that hair though, she would have no sanctuary on the entire planet near people. He glanced back at her and shook his head. Not just her hair, her eyes were a shade he had never seen before, not even in the natives of Thamasa. The irises were pale purple with specks of green near the pupils. It would surely draw attention.

 _Maybe I should rethink Figaro_ , he thought, as he carefully maneuvered over a fallen log. _No one will understand, they will only see unacceptable difference. I'll have to get her into the castle as discretely as I can. The northern gate is out of the question, and so is the south. It seems I'm stuck with the west. That should be out of the eyes of most, at least._

“Locke?” He looked back at her quickly, confused. She pointed ahead and his eyes followed. He froze at the sight; a small caravan of people was heading toward their direction. Locke quickly turned to her and took her arm to drag her out of view before they could see. She asked him what was wrong over and over again but he waited until he had her ducked behind a thick set of bushes to tell her that they needed to stay quiet and hidden until they passed. “But why?” she whispered and he reached over to clamp a hand over her mouth. She followed his eyes out through the bushes to the path the caravan was taking. Two large carriages rolled into view, accompanied by twelve armed guards, while smaller coaches came up in a line with sickly or poor civilians trailing behind quietly. A few large golden birds trampled by the carriages, mounted by pikemen.

It seemed like forever until the caravan vanished over the hills, and even then Locke insisted they remain where they were quietly for even longer, until he was sure they were gone. Only then did he released her and stand up cautiously, surveying the surrounding area. He watched after them with squinted eyes and a hand on the hilt of his dirk. “We should move on, quickly. We should not test our luck.”

“They were just people though...” she said, digging her way out of the bushes. She got stuck on a thorny bush, grimacing as she plucked her way free. Locke turned to her, brows furrowed. He had forgotten...

“Terra...” he wondered how to begin. It didn’t seem right to just jump into the thick of it, to tell her that people were animals given the right reason. “Not all people can be trusted, as not all people are good. Those people,” he gestured after the caravan. “could have easily been Imperial sympathizers or even worse—greedy enough to displace their values to make a quick pound of gil.”

“So...we shouldn’t trust _anyone_?” she looked up from her task, brows furrowed in confusion.

He nodded. “Exactly—no, no, not entirely!” he corrected himself almost as soon he spoke. “You just have to be extremely careful and consider your friends even more carefully than you do your enemies.”

“Oh.” she wasn’t sure she entirely understood the enemy part but she had no room to argue. What happened in Narshe seemed like evidence enough for his words. Arvis and Locke were the only ones to be kind to her.

“I can explain it better later, once we are safe and sound.” he offered quietly, through a friendly and warm smile. He knelt to help her out of the thorny hold and then held a hand out for her, to help her out into the openness again. She accepted his hand hesitantly and followed him southward toward the giants in the distance. “It is just for right now that we have to remain secret, I promise.”

She glanced back, some part of her hoping to see the caravan again. Her life was already too much of a secret, and by some grace her name had become one of the many she was sure to exist that unfolded. For good measure, for she was fearful she would forget it, she repeated her name in her mind.

_ My name is Terra...my name is Terra. _


	7. The Past

Chapter VI:  
The Past

The following days took them across wide, bumpy plains towards the Highlands. Though the distance they walked was great, Locke made passing comments that the one ahead of them was even greater. At first she assumed he meant the desert that was their destination would be much harder and far longer to cross, but every time he spoke about the ‘journey ahead’ the details shifted. Terra instead concentrated her efforts on the journey they were on now, since it was difficult to paint a scene that kept changing.  
  
The journey saw them through multiple roads and off-road paths, to small caravans or solitary travelers, all of which they avoided. It was beginning to annoy Terra. She thought talking to the travelers or walking the roads would reveal more of her memories, as it happened when she did something simple to earn a mundane memory. She wanted a core memory, something that meant more than what a certain bird was or how to fish or the names of specific monsters that troubled the Empire enough to instruct its soldiers on or anything else. She wanted pieces of herself, not of other things.

When she expressed this to Locke, he sighed and gave in. Their first road to walk was at first incredibly exciting. She didn’t know what she expected to see. Would there be more caravans of greater splendor? Perhaps a traveling merchant with tales and stories and news? Or maybe a quaint family would appear, somehow know her, and shout out her name and embrace her and tell her all the thing she didn’t know? The possibilities were unreal in her head and so when the day tired and they encountered nothing but a few rabbits or monsters, her incredible excitement ended abruptly.

When Locke caught onto her disappointment the night they camped, he asked her what was wrong. Once she explained, he smiled. “It would be something if we happened upon someone who knows you. The odds alone...but don’t worry. There is bound to be someone out there.”

That didn’t help her much, nor did it bring enough comfort to make her close her eyes and appease her exhaustion. She wanted answers, not further disappointment.

The morning met her with far greater spirits than the days before. They had been heading down a beaten road through a sparse collection of trees when they came across a fork in the road. A single, weathered sign sat at the middle where the road split. To the east was a village called ‘ _Fairmont_ ’ and the other path, leading south, claimed to lead to the ‘ _Highlands_ ’. Locke explained that the road to Fairmont was easier to use to reach the Highlands as they approached the signpost.

The moment Terra had seen the sign she felt a tingle run down her spine. In her mind’s eye she saw rows of men marching down the road guided by two iron suits, grotesque in their design. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew it was true. The memory had sprung forward out of nowhere. She stopped Locke just as he started for the eastern path. He faced her with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

Her head stung and her vision flashed white for just a second or two, and then she said, “We can’t go that way. The Empire uses it regularly.”

He blinked at her, confused. “Did you just remember that?” she nodded and pressed a hand against her temple. Her head was still throbbing. “I’m not going to argue with you, that’s for sure. We’ll go the hard way.” he smiled at her and then pressed on through the southern road, further into the little woods.

Terra followed after him quietly, tending to her head as if she could will the ache away. She wanted to remember something, and she had gotten it. It wasn’t entirely useless information either and potentially saved them from running into a regiment of Imperials. For that she was grateful and would gladly accept the pain that came with it.

By the end of the second day since passing the fork they finally came to the foot of the Highlands. Steep, almost rounded top mountains with walls of dark gray rocks showing beneath blankets of evergreen grass and shrubbery. A long crevice dug through the far right side of the path they were taking, forming a rushing river downward and out of sight through the trees.

The rocks were wet and treacherous the further they climbed, and soon enough they were enveloped into a low cloud. Visibility became an issue soon and the small group found it difficult to maneuver over the land. It was unnerving for Terra. She couldn’t remember ever being in a place like it before. Being lost in a sea of white, surrounded by looming walls of rock that could loosen and crush her to death, was more than she could take.

 _I hope we soon leave this place_ , she thought to herself just as they rounded a rather smooth hill. The area opened up wider into rolling green hills where jagged rocks jutted out in crazy patterns. It looked entirely unfriendly and far more dangerous than the close, round walls and whiteness they had finally escaped.

She shuddered at the sight of it. Who would willingly walk through this place? Locke noticed her reluctance to follow him and laughed. “Now what’s wrong?”

“I do not like this place,” she said honestly, descending the rocky hill face to reach him. “It is...” she struggled to find the appropriate word. “It is...”

“Uninviting?” he finished with a rise of his brows. She nodded. “You will like it soon enough, I’m sure. Most people do when they see the Brandy Hills.”

“Brandy Hills?” she repeated curiously, jumping down a little flat rock as he had just done. She pictured brandy pouring down a hill and smiled. That couldn’t possibly be it, besides, whas that even what brandy looked like? “Why is it called that?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure, really,” he paused to point ahead. “It is right there, just beyond that one hill, see? When you see it you are going to wonder how you ever disliked this place.”

Terra very much doubted that, but she followed him with great curiosity regardless. She wanted to know the reason the hills were named ‘Brandy’ and what it looked like to invoke such comments from her traveling companion. The very moment her feet touched the top of the hill her breath left her.

The land swept down quickly into gentle rolling hills scattered with rocks and creaks. To the far right of her there was a large body of water pooling down from the Highlands, encased by beautiful walls of rocks covered in grass and moss. The sky was clear blue and the sun shone prettily above them, causing the water to glisten handsomely. Her eyes went over a sea of red and yellow covering the hills. When the wind rushed over them it looked like red liquid about ready to pour down the other side of the hills.

It was the most beautiful thing she had seen yet. Locke gestured to the red flowers ahead of him with a smile. “That’s why it is called ‘Brandy’ hills I guess.”

“It’s wonderful,” she breathed out, eyes wide. She hoped she would always remember this place. “How can something be so pretty?”

“This is just one of the many marvels of the world, Terra,” he said. “One day you will see it all. I just know it. Now,” he started down the hill. “Let’s go refill our water and relax a bit, huh? It won’t be much longer until we are at the desert.”

They found a decent spot to rest near the creaks just a little further from the lake. Locke went to fish a few feet ahead of her while she took the task of refilling their botas. When she finished, and found that Locke was still having difficulties catching anything, she decided to explore.

She went up one of the hills of flowing red flowers. She found them too endearing to leave behind, so she snapped a few flowers from their stalks or plucked them where she could, and then headed back to the campsite. She went to the creak and, upon seeing her reflection, knelt to look at her face. She still held some of the flowers, and for some reason, she lifted up and pushed the stem through her hair just above her right ear. She smiled at the sight, unsure of why it made her happy.

That’s when she looked down, following the direction of the water, and wondered what lied beyond. Standing, she followed the creak as far as she dared, until she went over one hill and couldn’t spot Locke, and then she followed it back and then followed it north, until she reached the lake. She could still see Locke if she squinted her eyes, so she stayed around the shores of the lake.

She found many strange things in the pebbly shore, such as stones, little shells, and soggy twigs and branches. The pebbles and rocks were all sorts of colors and shapes, though all remained smooth to the touch. She then spotted a particularly pretty reddish stone and picked it out of the clear water. She turned it over in her hands, pleased with the color and shape, and then tucked it away into the pocket of her Imperial trousers. When she looked up, ready to return, she froze. About twenty feet ahead of her, standing on fours along the shore and staring at her was some large, fury brown thing.

Not knowing what it was and unwilling to test her luck, she turned and ran back for Locke. By the time she reached him her breath was shallow and her forehead was covered in sweat. He had managed to catch two small fish and was heavily annoyed with himself, but was still able to ask her what was wrong as gently as he usually spoke to her. She hurriedly explained what she saw and he laughed at her question of, “What kind of monster was it?”

“That wasn’t a monster,” he said, tossing aside the makeshift fishing pole he had. “It was an animal, a ‘bear’, though some people do call them monsters they don’t actually mean they’re monsters.” he held up the two meager fish. “Let’s eat before I think too much on my terrible fishing skills.” she smiled and followed him back to the fire.

They ate relatively quietly, trying to make the small game last longer than it could possibly. Locke had rubbed salt into the fish and sprinkled some green leaves on them that Terra did not recognize, though she was glad for it. It made them taste spectacular. When she finished, even before he did, she sighed. She wasn’t anywhere near full. She hoped he would catch more later.

The rest of their break was spent going over details and preparations for what was ahead. He drew a lazy circle in the dirt by the fire and then drew another half circle on the side of it. He pointed to the smaller one. “That’s the Cerobi Steppe that borders the desert. It will take us approximately two or three days to cross if we cut through the Liavell Hills.”

“How you been there before?” she asked, looking at the map he drew as if it would spill more secrets. He laughed.

“A thousand and one times, of course. I know the route like it is the back of my hand.”

Terra looked up from the dirt at him. “When will we reach it?”

“In two days if we keep our pace brisk, but that reminds me.” he patted his bota. “When we are about to reach the steppe, we have to conserve our water until we come across the Feddik River that cuts across the eastern border here.” he pointed. “That way we can refill and be ready for our journey into the desert.”

“Will it be very long?”

Locke knew she meant the journey itself and offered her a small smile he hoped was reassuring. “Only a little. If only I could find us a few chocobos...the journey could be made in a day or two.”

She thought on the word and asked what they were. When he explained that they were the yellow birds the caravans or travelers were using, she smiled. She was glad it was not another thing she had to wait to know what it was. “Why don’t we get a chocobo then?”

“It is a lot harder than that,” he said. “They are exceptionally hard to capture out in the wild, especially so without any greens to feed them, and we can’t buy one, even if I had the gil to spare. There aren’t any stables nearby and going out of our way to find one would just be stupid since the days spent walking would have gotten us through our journey already.”

She oh’d quietly. She looked forward to riding one. She supposed there would be another chance...or at least hoped for it. Perhaps at the castle, their destination, she would get to try just that. It made her think beyond that though and wonder on what the castle exactly looked like. She faced her kind friend. “What is Figaro like Locke?”

“Well,” he started slowly, thinking. “It is a huge building made of dark stone sitting in the middle of a desert. It is amazing, and further ahead than most when it comes to technology and advancements. Well, behind the Empire and Vector of course, but still a marvel. Actually, if I remember correctly a lot of what the Empire is using came from the minds at Figaro.”

“Vector?” her head hurt and she looked away, fighting back flashes of a memory in her mind. Soldiers running frantically about a burning city, torched and bleeding, screaming and pleading. Walls of fire that could have melt stone moving around as if alive. She shuddered. “The capitol...” she whispered aloud, unaware she had until Locke smiled.

“Yea, that’d be Vector alright. I was there once and I don’t care to be ever again.” he tossed a rock into the fire. “The place froze my blood and I don’t scare very easily.”

Terra agreed more than she was going to voice. She was afraid that if she did, she would say what she was remembering. She didn’t know much, but she knew burning people was not something you did. She looked at the fire, remember what she had done in the mines once again.

 _What did I do? Why can I do it?_ She glanced up at Locke and wondered how accepting he would be if she told him all that she could do and all she could remember. She accepted that he wouldn’t and closed the part of her that wanted to tell him.

“They have a garden though,” Locke muttered a moment later. “In Figaro, I mean. It is something, I’ll tell you. You might like it.” she knew he was trying to cheer up the mood some and smiled gratefully at him. Even when she hadn’t said anything he seemed to know. He relaxed back into the cool grass with a yawn. “Let’s rest for a bit and then we can go on. Does that sound good?”

She watched as he tucked his arms under his head and closed his eyes with a carefree smile on face and then looked back towards the fire. It sounded plenty fine to her. She laid down in the cool grass too and watched the clear blue sky until her eyes shut and she was swept away in a torrent of dreams.

She opened her eyes and found long, dark corridors briskly passing her. There were two men in front of her, one tall and wiry, the other shorter and heavy in muscle. They were Imperials, of a high rank too. She remembered what the rose insignia sewn into the shoulders of their uniforms meant clearly. It signified their elite status, and the dark orange color beneath it signified what they had been trained in; infiltration.

They were leading her towards an iron door that stretched so far up it nearly touched the roof. At each side of the door were armed men, with odd bulky looking weapons. They greeted the two men leading her with the Imperial salute before opening the door for them. As it drew apart she could see beyond into a large, open room of metal and iron, where hundreds of Imperials ran about in a hurry. In smaller portions than the soldiers were the same grotesque looking machines she had remembered near the Highlands.

She was led towards a particular machine that stood out amongst the others, for it looked stronger and yet smaller than the rest. Its colors were different too, mostly dark black and gray, but was highlighted with the Imperial red of the rose and given the black rose insignia, the second highest of Imperial ranks. The two men faced her and her head started to burn. Deep brown eyes stared back at her. She knew those faces, but from where?

“To your tek, witch,” the brown eyed Imperial snapped and her feet moved forward without hesitation. She panicked. What was she going to do? She feared seeing the fiery walls consume the Imperials again. She tried to will her feet to stop, but they went on, until she stood before the freshly polished surface of her Magitek. When she glimpsed her reflection, she knew when this memory was. In the reflection she was wearing the same uniform she woke up in, down to the colors and badges on the deltoid of her gamebeson and the Imperial rose on the heart of her vest.

Terra knew this memory was just before the attack on Narshe, when she had her memories. When she was an Imperial. She watched helplessly as she boarded the Magitek and locked herself into the cockpit. Through the glass she could see the man with the tattoo under his eye, with an unpleasant smile plastered on his face. Her heart grew weak when she realized he was watching her. That his sickening smile was _for_ her.

 _No_ , she cried. _Wake up! Wake up!_

Sound picked up in her cockpit. The terminal lit up and she could hear two men talking about some 'big wig' mission in a dirty old village that the world did not remember. Narshe. She knew it had to be it.  
  
“As if having my ass freeze off wasn't enough,” one of the men complained over the comms. “We have to have her on our team.”

“Enough,” the other man barked. He was to her far left, somewhere, but she was sure of that. “Not while the he's watching.” Terra's eyes lifted back to the tattooed man, having a strange feeling it was him that the man in her group was talking about. A chill ran through her looking at the white face that smiled at her. “The higher ups said if we complete this without the girl getting harmed we will be promoted, so let's try to keep our minds on the reward instead of the girl, okay?”

“That sounds good to me,” the first man agreed.

The man to her left somewhere said, “Alright witch,” _Witch? Is he_ _talking about me?_ Terra wondered even as her dreamself turned her head to look at the man to her right. The glass obscured much of her vision, but she could see his shape through his glass. “Warm up your engines. We're leaving in five.”

As her dreamself fiddled with the terminal in front of her, Terra felt a rush of cold sweep through her body and then she opened her eyes.

 

The evening sky greeted her. A few small clouds floated by, over a fading sun. She sat up and took a moment to collect her thoughts. Locke was nowhere to be seen when she finally searched for him. The fire was nearly out and so she assumed he went to collect firewood. She sat by the warmth of it for a moment before glancing around the perimeter of the campfire for her companion's return.

When she was satisfied he was not about, she turned her hands palm up and stared intensively at them. The memory of the cave and the walls of fire tugged at her mind. It was like a glint of something known deep in her heart—just out of reach. She closed her eyes and thought on that feeling that raced through her in the cave.

 _Maybe I can do it again_ , she opened her eyes and tried with all her might to make the flames appear but nothing happened, except a splitting headache. She tried once more, only this attempt rewarded her with nothing. She sighed.

“You're awake, good.”

Terra turned to face Locke, startled. Did he see anything? Would he ask? She got to her feet quickly, nervous. “Where did you go?”

“I scouted ahead. It looks like we can walk the main road for some time and then deviate toward the Liavell Hills as planned. I don't think we will see much trouble, at least.” he reached into his pack and then tossed her a oblong bottle of brownish liquid. Her brows furrowed.

“What is this?”

“I made us some potions. A sip of that will cure contact with most poisonous creatures on the steppe, but we should still be very careful. Poison isn't the only thing to worry about, after all. Cuts could easily get infected, or we could be blinded or paralyzed. Too many things to cure, so it would be nice to not worry about it.”

That's right. Locke had said there were monsters that could take your eyesight away, and even leave you immobile. She shivered. To not be able to move was a truly terrifying thing. She tucked the potion away between her belt, by her sword, just as Locke reminded her that only a sip was needed if she needed it.

 _A sip, only a sip_ , she told herself firmly, as if it would help her remember. When he stomped out the last of the fire and led her towards the hills of flowers, she picked up her pace and asked, “Locke? Are there any cures to being paralyzed?"

“Hmm? Well, yes, but they are harder to craft out in the open,” he answered. “And would be useless anyways if you are by yourself. It usually only takes a moment for it to take effect, so if you just avoid their claws, teeth, or even their saliva—usually—you should be okay.”

 _Teeth, claws, saliva. That...that should be easy to avoid_. She reached for her sword without looking at it and felt some measure of peace when she felt the pommel under her fingers. She just hoped that she wouldn't lose her sight. She did not want to feel the way that she did in the caves, not ever again.

They walked for a few more hours, until the sun left the sky. They found shelter among the trees alongside the road and just against a few boulders, so that they could avoid the wind as much as they could. The steppes were always windy, or so Locke told her as they hunkered down beside the unlit bundle of sticks, but it seemed particularly bad this night, because he kept swearing when his embers went out.

There was no stopping the wind completely either, so they ended up sitting quietly against the rocks and trees in the dark, wishing for the violent wind that tormented them to stop if only for a minute. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them and tucked her face against her knees, shivering.

“Damn wind,” Locke grumbled spitefully beside her, arms tucked under each other, teeth chattering. “Damn cold. I swear that—” he stopped immediately and perked his head up straight.

Terra waited patiently for him to finish his sentence until it felt odd that he was quiet, and then she lifted her face from the small warmth of her knees to see that he was slowly getting up into a kneel. His eyes were intense, and his hands already occupied with his daggers. Alarmed, she moved to get up but he motioned her to stay still with a flick of his hands. She was confused, and now very much frightened.

“What is it?” she whispered, trying to follow his line of sight. All that she saw was the black, indistinguishable wall of trees across the road and the near black sky above it. His eyes never left the trees in front of them. “Locke?”

“Terra, listen to me carefully,” he did not look at her. “Get up slowly, don't say a word, and go behind the rocks.”

her heart skipped a few but she did as commanded. She moved without making a sound and went to her place behind the rocks. Now she was facing a different kind of darkness, but so much like the one across the road. The trees rose before her in bald spires, casting further shadows so far that it made the ground look like an empty chasm. She reached for her sword, trembling.

She heard movement on the other side of the rocks and sucked in a sharp breath, hoping that it would still her just enough to not give away her location. The movement sounded human, and too loud to be the footsteps of just one person. The leaves and twigs crunched under their weight and they moved closer and closer.

She swallowed back a cry and squeezed her eyes shut. A gentle touch on her arm made her scream, though luckily her mouth was quickly covered to keep it from traveling. When she looked closer, it was Locke, holding a finger to his lips. He nudged his head toward the trees beside him and led her toward it. She followed, still trembling, but holding her sword in a fashion she knew was not very warriorish of her. The weight of it did not feel comfortable like it did before, but a burden. Locke's figure was barely eligible in the darkness so she kept on his heels, so close that a step further would have had her walking on top of him.

The trees soon enveloped them and then Locke turned, took her arm and pulled her down. They were knelt behind a thicket. She let out a quick breath, relieved, but he shook his head at her. “Listen Terra, we're being followed.”

“Who would follow us?” she asked fearfully. “Why would they?” her memories sprung back to her and she knew there were many reasons why she would be followed. Narshe was not the only evil she committed in the world. _The men...they called me 'witch'_. The words, as foreign as they were to her, seemed to fit. _The things that I did..._

“I don't know, and I don't plan to stick around to find out.” he stood an inch or two higher to peer over the thicket before lowering again and taking her by the shoulders. “They have a hound or two with them, so we can't stay here for long. We need to lose them, or take out the dogs. We won't get far otherwise.”

“What...” she took a second to hold back a plea to run. “What do you want me to do?”

“I appreciate your initiative, kiddo,” he said, smiling, and that eased her just a bit. “but I am going to have to handle it. If it is you that they want, they will not expect me to be with you. I want you to go that way,” he pointed to their right. “until you come across a creak. Follow the river's flow until you reach a crossing in the water. You will know it when you see it. Wait on the other side for me.” he rose and then said. “If I'm not with you in an hour, run and don't stop running until you are sure they aren't following you.”

“Wait, Locke, I can help—”

He silenced her with a quick gesture and then quietly went back the direction they had come from. She watched him until his shape disappeared into the darkness and then she did as she was told. The silence of the woods made her jumpy at whatever sounds that sprung up, but in a moment's worth of walking the creak's soothing sound took precedence over her raw nerves.

It wasn't a very deep creak, but crossing through the water would tire her for sure. She followed the flow until the path Locke mentioned came into view and then she hesitated. Whatever Locke was facing, he was facing it for her own good. He was risking everything for a stranger. She glanced over her shoulders, hoping that his lithe figure would spring out of the trees toward her with a wide, boyish smile, but he did not.

She knew that if she crossed the creak, she wouldn't come back. Fear had driven her to go as far as she did now, but what now stopped her feet seemed too much to ignore. Locke had shown her kindness where others had only meant her harm. If she walked away now, for her own good, she would be no better than the 'her' in her memories. And that was a person she did not want to be.

She turned on her heels and faced the direction she had come from with a heavy sigh. In the distance she heard a dog howl and it was enough to make her steady her sword and approach the trees once more. The safety of what the other side of the creak offered her was soon out of sight. She wasn't sure if she was going to the right way, but she figured if she walked a pretty much straight line the way she came she'd happen upon the road or Locke. Or so she hoped.

Terra walked and walked, shivering under the chilly gusts, and soon came to a part of the woods where the trees were spaced out. She paused and surveyed her surroundings. She thought she was being careful, but when she felt someone touch her shoulder, she twirled around swinging her sword blindly.

“Terra!” the person hissed. It was Locke! She felt him take her hands and point her sword downward. “Why aren't you at the creak?!” the dogs were barking someplace close to them, and she thought she could hear men talking.

“I...I couldn't leave you behind,” she answered softly, ashamed for so many reasons.

He sighed. “Well, since you are here...” he didn't sound very pleased though. “I suppose we make due. I'm going to use you as bait.”

“Oka—” she hesitated. “Wait...what?” she thought she heard... “Bait? What do you mean by that, Locke?” but he did not answer. She gasped and took a few steps back, lifting her sword. “Locke?” she called into the darkness once more. “Are...are you still here?” her voice was barely over a whisper yet she was sure that when the strangers' voices called out that they found her that she had shouted it instead.

All at once a line of twelve men broke through the sparse woodlands and into her view. There were two dogs on chains with them, snarling and barking at her. Terra could not see much of them in the weak light, but she thought she could see reflective gear on them.

Imperials.

Knowing who they were made her heart sink. She stared back at the men in front of her in such focus that the world quieted around her. Nothing else mattered in that moment than what and who they were, and what she once had been. Her ears started to ring, drowning out what they were shouting at her, but she could tell by their angry expressions they wanted her to drop her sword.

 _Oh. I'm still..._ she glanced down at the blade shimmering in the dim moonlight dumbly. Her breath grew haggard as a pressure built in her head. She felt this before, but where? When? The next moment the group of Imperials were dispersed as Locke leapt out and took out two men with his agile stealth. Now there was a brisk battle building around her, one that she could not hear. The dogs' masters let the dogs go and they went for her instantly.

She saw Locke backstep, face her and shout something, but her feet did not move. Her mouth did not open to shout for help, instead, as one of the dogs leapt at her, she took a graceful stance and slashed the sword upward in an arch, decapitating the dog.

When its head hit the ground the sound of the world returned to her. The Imperials were howling commands and obscenities, and the last dog was barking and making short jumps at her, too frightened to really engage her. Locke was quiet, too busy in his battle against the last ten men to pay her any more attention.

The weight of the sword was different to her yet again and she found it comforting once more as she dashed toward the last dog, performed a half pirouette and then struck it down.

Locke finished off one more Imperial by throwing one of his daggers into his throat, leaving his left side open. In order to avoid the strike, he pushed himself back, tripping over himself and landing roughly on his back. Before any of them could take advantage, he rolled to his right and sprung back to his feet and dashed back into the fray. He knelt down, tugged a sword out of one of the dead Imperials' hands and then engaged them once more, completely unaware that four of them had broken off to fight Terra until it was too late to intercept.

“Watch out Terra!” he shouted, glancing back only quick enough to see that she was surrounded. “Damn it!” he swore, ducked and then lopped off the hands of a nearby soldier. His back was to her and her aggressors, but he could hear the men shouting indistinguishable over the clatter of their swords. He did not hear Terra—not one shout or cry. He jumped back, avoiding a jab from his opponents, and whirled on foot to get behind them. They were stunned momentarily, long enough for Locke to push the sword he had through a man's back and engage the others with his last dagger.

When he finished off the last of the men near him, he pulled his daggers free of their corpses and looked up, breath short, to see that Terra had fought off two of her opponents but did not dispatch any of them. Her movements were graceful, like water, and it was clear watching her that she had the skill necessary to take them out, but why didn't she?

Locke understood the second she blocked the attack of two other men. She didn't want to take their lives. He sighed and approached the group quietly, hoping to catch two or three of them by surprise, to ease Terra's situation. When he neared, he got to one before the men rushed Terra once more, together.

She tripped and landed hard on her back. Locke swore, threw aside the man he killed and raced toward her. “Terra!” some of the Imperials turned to look at him, looking away from their target. That's when Locke saw Terra throw her hands up in front of her, as if to block their onslaught—like a frightened child.

It all happened so fast that Locke couldn't be sure what he saw, but the second the men were too near her, they were lit in flames so intense in heat that Locke—standing about fifteen feet away—had to back away. The fire was so bright all of the woodlands around them could been seen as if in the light of the sun. He lifted an arm to cover his eyes and waited until the light dimmed to remove it from his sight.

Terra was sitting up, hands out in front of her still and trembling. Her eyes were wide, fearful, surprised. What laid before her were so beyond burnt that they could no longer be recognized as men. The ground was charred and on fire in some places, and the air stunk heavily of cooked flesh.

_What the hell..._

He approached her slowly, unsure. Their eyes met for a second before hers rolled back and she collapsed “Terra!” he shouted, running over. He lifted her up and laid her against his knees. “Come kiddo, come on...say something, anything.” her flesh was cold and clammy, as if she were sick, and yet when he picked up her hands, they were hotter than humanly possible. He swore and looked up to survey the damage she had done.

“Impossible,” he mumbled, watching smoke puff out of the corpses. _How did she do this?_ He glanced down at her face, stilled in discomfort and pain, and saw the necklace around her throat. He lifted the jewel, a strange purple stone, and inspected it for a moment. _This is no normal amethyst...perhaps...no, they wouldn't give her something so powerful, would they?_ He shook his head. _No matter. I have to get her out of here before this stench draws in a damn Bellwyvern or worse._

He lifted her and hoped the contact would warm her, and carried her through the remnants of her battle through the trees. His thoughts kept straying back to what he had seen. _That must be why they are so intent on capturing her. She's got powerful relics on her...relics the Empire wants back, but why go to such lengths for things they can easily manufacture?_ _Hmm,_ _I guess the stuff this kid has is high grade..._ he glanced down at her face once more. _If that's so, why entrust it to a girl like this if it means so much to them?_

Terra mumbled something under her breath, tossing her head this way and that way. “Come on now...that makes it hard to carry you.” he held her closer as he maneuvered carefully over a small ridge of rocks. The creak came into view, as well as the crossing. He laughed, relieved. “Only a little longer kiddo, and then you can rest.” he knew she could not hear him, but he felt a smidgen of his worry drain out of him to talk.

Across the creak, the peak of a small knoll popped out through the sparse woodlands. A dead maple sat at the top, where he decided to lay her to rest for the remainder of the night. When he had her safely under the tree's branchy canopy, he brushed his hands together and tucked them under each other. “That should do for now...” he wanted to start a fire, but he worried about any Imperials in the area. Smoke could easily be seen in a clear night sky like the one above him. _Imperial dogs...they're everywhere just like roaches._

He knelt beside her, sat his pack aside and then removed his jacket to drape across her. Up on the hill he had the advantage of sight and the high ground, but with it came the sheering cold wind—something he could not make up for, not even if he was stupid enough to leave her to gather wood—it was a disaster. _Okay, this isn't so bad...I've felt colder. Just imagine the beaches of Kohlingen and you're set_. For the rest of the night he kept a diligent lookout on both the woodlands around him and Terra's condition.

 

“Strike!”

“Strike!”

“Parry!”

Her eyes opened to a small enclosure, where the walls were high and the light forgotten in the sheer shadows they left behind. There were a half dozen dummies stationed in a line before her, plump with straw and aided by the broken and discarded plates of armor of some blacksmith. Some of them were littered in their exposed parts with arrows or daggers and such, while others were dented and maimed.

It was a training ground, though how she knew this, she could not figure out. Yet the shapes of the figures before her were familiar, and their concept even moreso. Almost as if on cue, a sword was lifted into her vision, striking out with incredible grace at one of the dummies.

It meant she had used them before. _It's me_ , Terra realized. _No...again! Not another memory, please!_ She tried to close her eyes against the visions but they held her, showing her the world she had lived before Narshe. Again and again she struck and parried and dodged imaginary strikes, all by the command of a tall man in the back.

“Enough!”

Instantly she stopped, sword drawn in front of her in a defensive position. The tall man approached her, revealing a face that sent fire down her spine. She knew him from the other memory, on the ledge before the Imperial army.

“You are too slow.” he said, pushing the blade down gently. “It is the only way to make up for your lack of strength. Speed, agility, intellect and resourcefulness will be the deciding factor of whether you live or die out there on the field, Terra. Never forgot this.”

She met his gentle green eyes. “I won't.” her voice sounded alien. As if heard through a wall, as if younger. The man did not smile or frown, he only nodded. “Then try again.” when he backed away she attacked the dummies with new vigor.

And then she was awake, staring through the dead branches of an old tree into the early morning sky. The wind was rough and loud, but oddly comforting after her nightmarish memories. She recalled the fight in the woods. _I don't_ _know_ _how...but I fought those men, just like in the memory...or was that a dream?_ And then the she remembered Locke and sat up quickly, shouting, “Locke!”

He was standing at the other end of the hill, back to her. He turned to her, frowning at first, and then laughed. “Well, well...glad to see you're okay, kiddo.” he walked over. “You are okay...right?”

She thought for a moment over it. She felt okay, well, physically at least. Was that right? Was that enough? Unsure, she just nodded, still very much tired. The memory or dream, whatever it was, caused a whole new headache. “That's good. If it wasn't for your relic, we'd be fodder for the animals and monsters by now.”

She furrowed her brows, confused. “What do you mean? What's a relic?”

“Well,” he rubbed at his neck, not quite certain how to explain it. “Think of it as equipment, like armor, or jewelry. It can be imbued with magical properties or such.”

“And I have one of them?”

He pointed to her necklace, which she reached up to touch. “I'm certain that's one, and a really powerful one too. I've never seen one create fire before.” his words made a tingle rush through her spine. _So what I did in the cave, and again that night...it was because of this?_ She squeezed the stone. _No...that's not right. I know it isn't_.

“Locke, I don't—” she stopped herself and looked into his soft eyes. Something in her did not want to share her thoughts with him. She wasn't sure what it was, but she feared it. She looked away. “I'm sorry I didn't listen to you.”

“That's okay, Terra,” he walked over. “From now on though it would help if you trusted me enough to go along with what I say. That may not be our last run in with Imperials. I know that from personal experience.” he held a hand out to her with a wide smile. “So, what do you say? Are we partners?” she smiled and accepted his hand so he could lift her to her feet. “It's a deal, then!”

When she was up, he laughed. “Oh, and can you guess where we are?” She looked around and then faced him with a bewildered stare. He motioned to their right. Terra glanced over the dozens of rounded hills bumping in and out of view as far as she could see and smiled. “We crossed the Feddik river, Terra. We're in the Liavell Hills.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make Terra's memories happen in moments of lucidity. I wanted her to be aware that she wasn't awake or that she was remembering something sometimes. It was tricky to write out, but I thought it would be interesting that the breaks between present and past weren't so obvious all the time. 
> 
> Well, anyways, thank you for reading! If you noticed any errors within the chapter, please message me with what they are and where! I've gone over it a few dozen times but I know that won't be enough. :) 
> 
> Thanks again!


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